How much do you hate me? (Nov 7) - U.S.S. Freedom

(Directly after meet and greet at the Regency)

How different would the boat be?  How much work would have been completed while she was gone? Was he still with Orie? Was he okay?

Dozens of questions tumbled through her thoughts as she made her way toward the boat. Toward where she hoped he'd be.

It was often easy to tell where the Gangrel was - follow the beasts, the birds. Follow the signs. Follow the carnage.

Angry.

He had been angry at one point, it seemed - though be it from the wind, waves and nature or something else, the railing on the port side was gone, ripped and smashed. This was the source of the current sound of hammering and repairs as the large Beast worked to repair what his frustration had wrought. It was the summation of his unlife, honestly said: always fixing and repairing what he broke within this unnatural human world. Neither pup was visible around the boat - likely sleeping below deck considering the time but there was a pause in the steady rhythm. A hiccup.

He knew she was there.

"Evening, Mat." Her voice, somewhat changed, drifted on the wind, making its way to his ears.

The hammer was put down slowly, measured steps, as the Canadian walked across the deck, gripping the remaining railing as he regarded the spectre, the ghost of his life past, the wraith waif that ran in his dreams and whose scent still lingered in his nose. The grey eyes glittered, seeing more than many understood - the Spirits whispered to him, Toutatis providing for his lost Son, for his destructive Sea Beast.

"Salute, Duckie." it was hard to tell if him speaking English was a good or bad sign.

"Told you I'd be back." She looked up at the big Gangrel. Her oldest friend. Not that 'old' was very old in this case. But still...

The craggy face smiled somewhat as his massive shoulders rolled back. "Ahnd ah told ya, ah'd always beh waitin'." his grey eyes went to the plank, then to her.

She moved toward him, on to the boat.

"Missed you."

He did not bother trying to clean himself off - it would serve no purpose, as he watched her move. His jaw tightened, the words elated and stung him all at once. She was the most wonderful, and most confusing wind in his sails. The undercurrent which tripped up his rudder, and made him sail true.

The hat came off, as he ran a hand through his straight hair, before putting it back on.

"One day, ya tink we'll ever write to de othah when we separate?" it was a chiding against him as well, of course - he was certainly guilty of that lack. He sat upon the railing, the wood groaning its objection dangerously, so he would be at a better and more equal height to the Brujah.

"Funny you should mention that." She pulled out a stack of letters, neatly tied together with a silver cord. "Here. Read them later." She handed them to him.

He just.. blinked... looking at the items. Not truly one to speak often, he was stunned silent, and nodded obligingly, putting them in his back pocket (the one that wasn't ripped off). There was a pause, as he tried to remember the human actions, the proper motions, and slowly the scarred arms opened wide.

She stepped easily into his strong embrace. Resting her head against his chest she took a deep breath enjoying his scent. "I tried to write every day, but...things sometimes got in the way. I think there's at least one a week."

Calloused fingers smoothed (or tried too) her hair. He shrugged slightly, resting his chin atop her head. "Eh... one beh all ah needed." he would always smell of the sea and earth, of the land which he roamed.

"How are you and Orie?"

He grunted, "weh saw each othah for de firss time since ya left ah day or two 'go."

She seemed surprised. "I thought you guys would have been together all this time."

There was a frown on his face, as he pulled her away slightly, so she could see his face. "... Ya ain't dat blind, Duckie."

She smiled at him. "No, but...you seemed to want it."

"Ah wanted teh give ya space... not come in ahn trample. Figured it was de best way." he shrugged. "Ah promised ah wouldn't clip ya wings, like de othahs. Ah keep mah word."

"Mat..." The look she gave him was full of confused emotions. "Your logic baffles me sometimes." She reached up to touch his cheek.

He didn't shy away from the touch. He just... shrugged. "Ya confuse meh." in the best way. But it was still confusing.

Ren let her hand drop as she leaned in again, her head resting on his shoulder. "Can I stay here for the day?" She seemed almost hesitant to ask.

"... Ya know ya nevah 'ave teh ask." he said softly, into her hair.

"Thank you."

"Dur Rein, Duckie. Dur Rein." he chuckled for whatever reason, looking over her at the railing, and slowly puzzling out what else he needed to do.

"Sah, 'ow was ya 'omecomin?"

"Same as always. Dad wanted me to stay, Desi needed me for a job. Abraham..." She sighed. "At least he didn't ask me to kill anyone I cared about this time."