[center][color=7ea7d8][b][h1][i][b]S[/b] o l i a[/i][/h1][/b][/color][/center]
[right][hr][color=gray][b]Windward Island[/b]
Port Harbor, The Sunken Shephard
[@SunsetWanderer][@DruSM157][/color][hr][/right]

Evander’s reaction was expected, albeit quite thankfully muted. She thought the grip lasted longer than necessary, but that was understandable. She pulled hers back first to lay back in her lap. 

Silence. For a moment Solia thought all might actually be well. Then the dreaded question came. She couldn’t blame him, in fact to expect nothing from the inquisitive minds of people, in retrospect, seemed cruel. It was their want to know, and their right. 

A man interrupted him, and Solia might have prayed thanks to Mother Ocean. He was mountainous in height, casting a shadow over their table that Solia welcomed. He seemed vexed, angry even, and it was a difficult impulse to reign in not asking him if he was alright. The fact that his outburst with the table of children had easily reached Evander and herself made it a bit easier. Clearly he had some connection with the fleeing boy, maybe as a mentor, maybe even familial. Regardless, it grieved her to see this man, whom she understood to be Chief Talu himself, berate the boy. 

Nonetheless, he posed them questions, and she felt again that winding discomfort in preparing to answer. 

And then Evander answered for her. 

She’d lowered her head already, but tried to spy him from beneath her hood anyway. He didn’t seem upset, or afraid. Perhaps a bit quickened having to interject for her, but otherwise…

Solia nodded along with Evander’s answer, but readily took the opportunity to say nothing.