Johnathon gingerly shook the other man's hand, not wanting to deny him politeness but still made uncomfortable by the behavior of the brothers. They were smiling at each other, but it felt to him like the smiles of agitated, distant relatives rather than the smiles of brothers. Resigned to nicety, he stood back and let their reunion carry on, his unease slowly transforming into curiosity with the comfort of distance. His blue eyes bounced back and forth between Aldric and Gideon, taking in their story's details. Brothers lost in war, a common story in his homelands, never any less tragic for the poor family. A cold ocean breeze was lashing at his back all the while, and every now and then an errant wave lapping against the pier would precipitate a gentle rain of saltwater droplets. John shivered slightly, and decided he wasn't very keen on sticking around. "It sounds that way," he chimed in from the sidelines. "Perhaps you'd like to come with us into the town? There are bound to be far more comfortable places to catch up," he suggested, although he didn't know a single tavern in the country.