Tristan startled as Tabitha hugged him. Appearances suggested an experience of immutable metal, but he wasn't; immutable, anyway. Plates gave way against pressure, and soft coils of wire and repurposed flesh beneath them added little more than the usual reinforcement of a fully organic body. As she drew away, he ran a hand over his head. It was perhaps the most human gesture he'd yet evinced. Listening to her, he laughed - or produced the sound - and it was almost his laugh,

[color=82ca9d]"Who else would I...thank you. I guess I'm a little scared -" 

[i]That ocean knows no boundaries, submits to no human cartography. Even the sky is drowning.[/i]

"-myself. But less so, now. You're right. We can't lose focus. Our friends are waiting. And...I'm sorry too,
 Tabitha. I could have been kinder. I told myself it wasn't my business, but really I didn't think anything was my business. Except business. It's no way to live. Pain IS a boundary, but not one that ought be left long unbreached. I could have been kinder to you."[/color]

Tristan paused to take in the sight of Anni flying past them, her face a setting-sun counterpoint to the pale-winged boy she'd left behind. [color=82ca9d][i]Again?[/i][/color] He hadn't been paying close enough attention; he  could only assume. He sighed, or affected to sigh, and made a gesture towards the event that almost seemed to hold a smile. [color=82ca9d]"Not that every boundary needs crossing, eh?"[/color]

He laughed again, and then stopped, his tone returning to an intensity-edged neutrality. [color=82ca9d][color=82ca9d]"This moment pays for the rest, Tabitha. A prelude to the one where we go home again, and get to tell Lane and Rani we're back. 

Nobody's getting left behind."[/color][/color]