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

"Always de popular one, ye beh."

"Not so much these days, I'm sure." He knew that tone. It was her unhappy tone.

He used his knuckles to raise her face, "Ya are wid meh." he knew it well. And he fought it as best he knew how. He was overjoyed she had returned, wanted to spend the day.

What do you say to that? If you are Mat, you just smile, and nod. Accept the compliment. He looked over her shoulder again, at the waves, at the work he was doing.

"Ya hungry?"

"Night beh young. Ah was gonna fish comme tourjours, but eh... whatever ya want."

"Well, sadly, dat means we're gonna 'ave to let go."

By the way he was gripping her, he likely was not either. "Well, ah could cheat ahn call ah pelican to hunt... or call ah fish... or weh could juss remembah we don't gotta eat. Nor breath."

"Sounds like ah good plan." There had been some things she had missed... but he did not seem to care about the past currently.

"Ah wouldn't know. Ah don't really much git told anyting."

He kissed the top of her head. "Well, ah ain't."

He grunted again, lifting up her chin. "Do ya wanna sleep in de house?" home. Their home.

"The guys are there with Maddy now. If we head in side I can get us there quick." She whispered softly.

He nodded, "shure... less you wanna walk. Or fly." as long as it was together, he cared little about the actual locomotion.

"Fly is good. I haven't flown in months."

"After toi." because he wouldn't let go of her until she sprouted wings and feathers.

The search for a bird began.

He smiled, looking skyward. "Whatcha wanna beh?"