Anything is better than fishing.

[Edreina]

32nd of Spring, 500 AD
The Anchorage Flotilla

"I don't want to go fishing!" An eight-year-old Edreina groaned, dragging her bare feet across the wooden deck. "Fishing is so boring!" And, of course, being bored for even a minute would end a child's world. "Pleeease Surai, don't make me go!" At this point, she grabbed her brother's hand and planted her bottom firmly upon the deck of the ship they happened to be crossing on their way to the Anchorage's outer rim.

The inhabitants of the ship stopped their own work to laugh at the antics of the children, shaking their heads and thinking back to a far fonder time.

Face crumpling angrily, the elder brother swatted his little sister lightly atop the head with his fishing pole, causing her to yelp and release his hand. Immediately, her body curled into itself, one hand coming to rub the stinging spot on her head while the other bundled her knees close. Hair like liquid fire pooled around her slim frame, curling and sticking out in odd ways. "Raiii, please don't make me go fishing..."

The elder sibling groaned at the use of his familial nickname. At least she's ceased calling me Suri... If only Zindr will join her... Of course, he had been able to bribe the youngest of the trio with an extra lobster claw. Zindr... she would take something more creative. "Fine... Just don't tell mom that I didn't bring you... You have to learn this sometime, Ina."

Her gloom dispersed like a cloud beneath Syna's light at his words and, with a grin and a joyful clap, she rose and turned to sprint back towards the center of the Anchorage where there was always something happening. "I won't have to learn to fish," the child said to herself as she ran from deck to deck, scrabbling the spaces in between, "so long as I've got him." Though all their antics and bickering may have said otherwise, the two little Whitewaves were closer than coral. The only thing that ever came between them was a fish pole and the boredom attach to it.

"Now... to find something to do while he sits on his butt." Running arond doing nothing at all was always more productive than sitting in one place, hoping for a bite on a hook.

[Finian Truewind]

He was gonna be in trouble.

Again.

It wasn't anything new, of course.

"Come back here, Finian!"

The boy heard his name echo off the water, his grandfather’s distinctively raspy angry voice carried on the wind. The tow-headed boy slipped between the rigging of the paravel he called home, scrambling over the familiar handholds on its hull and throwing himself, all awkwardly long, growing limbs and sun-kissed freckles, onto the deck of the neighboring ship. He scrambled up, sliding across the smooth wood on his hands and knees, doing his level best to get away before anyone started to think it best to chase him.

He had no interest in being caught. No, going back to net-making was the last thing on his mind.

Making nets was not his idea of a good way to spend such a warm, sparkling spring day. It was so boring, especially when his sisters were all chattering about boys and hair (ew ... and ew). Gods, how awful. Finian would much rather of had his brothers hanging him by the ankles over the stern or been forced to sand some hard-to-reach corner of a hull than listen to a bunch of girls prattle on and on and ... The young Svefra had no idea which was worse: tying knots for hours or listening to those older girls chatter.

Blah.

He wimpered a bit, scraping his knees on the deck of the next ship, bare feet slapping against worn wood as he traced familiar paths through old creaky vessels. He knew the old man wouldn’t chase him, but his brothers or cousins might.

They wouldn’t be too gentle upon catching him either, as the winter always left them tired antics come spring.

But they didn’t have the coins. Ian did.

A handful of mizas weighed heavy in a little pouch on his belt. A few had once belonged to his cousin (who still didn’t know they were missing). A few he’d earned himself, scraping barnacles off an old casinor for his father, and a few he traded his whole collection of red sea glass for. He had no idea what he could buy with his coins, but he wasn’t about to wait any longer to find out.

The collection of market ships was almost across the entire Flotilla from the repurposed old vessels that made up the Truewind family boatworks.

Finian had a lot of running to do.

Or, perhaps, he’d just have to find somewhere to hide until they gave up on him coming back for the day. Sure, he’d get an earful before bedtime, if not a bit of roughness from his brothers, but … the boy’s mind couldn't really imagine anything worse coming of his current decisions. Not that he thought that far ahead.

A few other Svefra caught a glimpse of the running blond boy as he leapt and clambered and scraped and slipped his way over the moving wooden surfaces of neighboring boats.

“Ian!” A cousin’s voice shouted from behind him, already cracking on the cusp of manhood. His grandfather had sent someone to follow him after all. He must have needed those boring nets. Finian’s eyes stung and the back of his neck felt suddenly sunburnt as a wave of guilt washed over him like a summer storm.

Then, with an unexpected splash, the long-limbed boy found himself flying over the railing of his next ship and crashing into the cold Suvan brine below. He’d tripped, and his left leg stung more than his slapping of the surface of the sea. Wimpering again and coughing salt water, the blond floundered in the water for a moment before beginning to swim toward another boat, turning only briefly to look over his freckled shoulder to check on his pursuit. He paddled himself into a narrow space between two lumbering hulls, hoping to make himself as hidden as possible in their shadows and beneath some netting.

The sea was cold, biting through his tan skin and threatening to munch with fury at his tender, young flesh and beginning of adult muscle beneath. Lagoon blue eyes scanned the decks above for signs of his cousin who was after him, or even for anyone else from his family out to catch him skipping out on honest work to get in trouble, only to eventually feel he’d thrown himself into safety without knowing.

Once he figured the much older boy had gone searching elsewhere, Finian had to find a way to climb back up and get to the market.

[Edreina]

"Need a hand?" The giggling voice came over the railing a tick after a small, freckle knuckled hand. Blue eyes reflecting the sea danced at the sight of the young man in the water, still amused by his method of entry. She had watched him running from a podmate, obviously avoiding work in the same way that she was. So, she had approached slowly, making sure that no one was around, and offered her assistance.

She braced her feet against he railing so that she could help him up into the small casinor he had fallen off of. If he accepted her help, she would jump out of the way as he crashed onto the deck, giggling again as she was prone to. Once he had recovered, she would proudly introduce herself as "Edreina Whitewave" and promptly and, without shame, ask him what in Laviku's name he had been running from.

[Finian Truewind]

"SSSSHHHH~!"

Ian put a finger to his lips, utterly exaggerating the necessity for silence with a bit of spittle and an angry, wet face. He didn't need some girl blowing his cover. For Laviku's sake, who did she think she was, anyway? He had everything under control. He was hiding just fine … until she found him. Whoops.

Scowling, he made her wait, expectantly dangling her hand over the railing of the adjacent ship, until he was satisfied that no one knew where he was.

Reluctantly, the boy let her heft him aboard. He sloshed onto the deck, a spray of flailing, gangly limbs, sea water, and platinum hair. He was a leggy thing, all awkward and growing. His Oceanus mark was an obvious swirl of waves and sea spray along his left side. The rest of him was all tan and a smattering of freckles. Eventually, he found his feet and stood, ignoring his stinging knees,

"I'm Ian." He offered simply in response to her introduction, wiping under his nose with the back of his hand, "Of the Truewind pod." He still said that with pride, puffing out his freckled chest, even if it was the same family's responsibilities he was currently fleeing from.

The girl, Edreina she'd said, was nosey.

He made a disappointed face at her question, rubbing his hands together before his eyes shifted back to where he'd come from,

"Ain't runnin' from nothin'. Maybe. Uh. Well. Uh. Nope." He lied. Obviously. A bit of red rose to his cheeks as he held firmly onto untruth, though the truth bubbled up in his throat. He managed to keep it behind his lips by changing the subject.

"Jus' in a hurry to get to the market. That's all." That was true. He had mizas burning a blazing hot hole in his thigh.

"Wanna come?"