[center][img=http://oi44.tinypic.com/8yvs7m.jpg][/center]

It was a small victory when she surrendered her acquiescence to Alden, though he understood that it had more to do with some shift in her than with his miraculous ability to influence. He understood that perfectly; like salty waves lapping against the rocks, he had simply eventually worn her down. Though his presence had won her acceptance, he knew that it had not won her trust. And that was okay with him, for now. He could feel her keen eyes as they worried over and considered him. Each time she looked at him, he did his best to disarm himself—to forfeit anything about him that might come across as threatening. A difficult task, as he was not by nature intimidating nor ferocious. 

“Your discomfort is perfectly acceptable.” He replied to her timid observation, smiling at the nervous laugh that accompanied it. “I suppose you don’t get many strangers prying their way to your rescue.” He shrugged, and gladly followed her lead down the walk. “Do you believe in fate? I do, and I knew just by looking at you that we were going to be fast friends.” It was his naiveté that drove him to make such a statement. What was a friendly confession meant to attract good feeling in his world could easily be seen as an overbearing assertion in this strange world. However, he did not leave time for the remark to stain the air before he pushed forward, taking the lead by a breadth so his presence behind her would not cause alarm. 

They neared the fairgrounds, and he felt his heart surge hopefully in his chest. Perhaps he would get his way and she would accompany him to the grounds, even if they only barely fringed upon its borders. He craved more than anything to be able to share in the lights, laughter, and music of the fairground with his new friend. It was with vague disappointment that he noticed her stop instead at the sidewalk. Under the dull hum of a street lamp, she sat. He followed her descent onto the grimy cement. Leaving a comfortable gap between them, he sat in front of her. His long legs crossed, he rested his lissome fingers on both his knees; his posture was unthreatening, unalarming—just as he was taking pains to make it so. 

She finally admitted her name, and he spoke it aloud with a gentle grin. “Carla.” It was unique; he enjoyed the way it forced him to curl his tongue when spoken. He considered it for a few moments more, but soon found himself caught up in the sudden flood of pink to her cheeks. A blush, he knew that much, but he couldn’t pin what was the cause of her embarrassment. It didn’t matter, for she spoke again; a topic created solely to fill the silent space that had settled between them. 

“I’ve been here quite a few times, actually.” He licked the salt from his lips and ran his fingers through his hair, made even more wild than usual because of the sea’s air. Hastily, he pondered what he should tell her; he didn’t wish to lie, but it wasn’t as if he could tell her the truth either. He finally settled upon an acceptable middle ground: the truth riddled with omissions. “My family is not from around here.” Not a lie. “They’re sort of strange, I suppose, to most. I guess I am too though, huh?” He shot her a grin and continued, “They like to keep to themselves, and never really venture out into the city unless it’s absolutely necessary.” Still not lying. “I can see the fair’s lights from my home. From where I am, they always look like stars that have withdrawn themselves from the sky. I can hear the noises too, the people and the music and the games—they seem almost otherworldly as well. I just wanted to see what it was all about, and so I started coming here at night. It’s mesmerizing, isn’t it? Like a little piece of magic stationed right in the center of the town.” He was glancing around then, like a spellbound child, trying to take it all in for the thousandth time since he’d started venturing into the town lines. 

After a time, he caught himself and smiled abashedly at his present companion. For a second or two he measured her in silence, but, remembering that the quiet made her uneasy, he offered up the expected other half of the conversation. “And what could have possibly brought you to the boardwalk alone so late at night?”