Hadama tilted his head in acknowledgment of Chaele's interpretation, neither agreeing nor disagreeing but quietly accepting her worldview and learning more about it as she offered more insight into her beliefs. He floated calmly, not still in the water but letting it flow under and around him without fighting it while she circled him to observe his own markings.
He didn't miss her look towards shore, however, and he began a slow, unhurried path towards it as they continued to speak. "Magic, I understand," he rumbled before ducking beneath the water to wet his head and neck again. Surfacing once more, he looked back to her frankly. "I also desire it." If she meant something else, he didn't pursue it; he didn't speak with drylanders enough to have learned to lip read. "Promising balance, though... I do not understand. Who do you promise it to?" He had a guess, but was content to wait for confirmation before making unwonted assumptions.
Her own question was met with a tilt of his head into the water, a duck below the gentle, persistent waves and up again as he considered it. "To my family. My ancestors. My gods. But also to my home," he added after a moment's pause, affirming her guess. "The cities, and their protection." He resisted the tide for a moment, waiting for her to catch up. "The ocean... is too vast. But my people..." He trailed off, brow furrowed and perhaps faintly troubled under the bright moonlight. "...Yes," he admitted at last, slowly. "To them, too."
He didn't miss her look towards shore, however, and he began a slow, unhurried path towards it as they continued to speak. "Magic, I understand," he rumbled before ducking beneath the water to wet his head and neck again. Surfacing once more, he looked back to her frankly. "I also desire it." If she meant something else, he didn't pursue it; he didn't speak with drylanders enough to have learned to lip read. "Promising balance, though... I do not understand. Who do you promise it to?" He had a guess, but was content to wait for confirmation before making unwonted assumptions.
Her own question was met with a tilt of his head into the water, a duck below the gentle, persistent waves and up again as he considered it. "To my family. My ancestors. My gods. But also to my home," he added after a moment's pause, affirming her guess. "The cities, and their protection." He resisted the tide for a moment, waiting for her to catch up. "The ocean... is too vast. But my people..." He trailed off, brow furrowed and perhaps faintly troubled under the bright moonlight. "...Yes," he admitted at last, slowly. "To them, too."
