[ His bones do not ache for a fight. Nicky can find peace anywhere he so prefers, but has always been carried towards the siren's song of battle. He is an instrument, and all things have their place, their calling. ]
[ The sea, too, has called to him. Perhaps it's why he wanders here, so, but expected to be alone. ]
— This amuses you?
[ But he can't help the small smile that plays upon him, when the corpse rises out of the sea. Oh, it's horrific, in every way a fair target for his revulsion. But it's battle. His body sings. Nicky draws his sword. ]
iii.
[ The sea, too, has called to him. Perhaps it's why he wanders here, so, but expected to be alone. ]
— This amuses you?
[ But he can't help the small smile that plays upon him, when the corpse rises out of the sea. Oh, it's horrific, in every way a fair target for his revulsion. But it's battle. His body sings. Nicky draws his sword. ]
It seems we shall.