He almost missed her words; the Port could be loud, with voices echoing even in the quieter back areas of the market. He found it a relief, however, to meet someone soft-spoken and he let his curiosity hold him back from simply swimming on his way again.
His own hand rose to meet hers, dark-skinned and with a translucent webbing between his fingers. Large fingers enclosed smaller ones, firm and gentle in the dryland ritual of greeting. "I am Hadama." He paused, uncertain how to continue for a moment. He had become a smith without a forge of his own, working with borrowed tools. A wanderer who rarely strayed far from his home waters. A trader of favors between land and sea, but no true merchant. "Of the mer," he finished, simply and without adornment even if it was a statement of the obvious.
"What is a Celestine?" A word that sounded almost familiar, though off the top of his head he couldn't quite place it.
His own hand rose to meet hers, dark-skinned and with a translucent webbing between his fingers. Large fingers enclosed smaller ones, firm and gentle in the dryland ritual of greeting. "I am Hadama." He paused, uncertain how to continue for a moment. He had become a smith without a forge of his own, working with borrowed tools. A wanderer who rarely strayed far from his home waters. A trader of favors between land and sea, but no true merchant. "Of the mer," he finished, simply and without adornment even if it was a statement of the obvious.
"What is a Celestine?" A word that sounded almost familiar, though off the top of his head he couldn't quite place it.
