Mostly, he has trouble forgetting where he is and why he's here, that his brothers back home are fighting and dying while he's here, safe, but this... it actually is brand new for him, and so far beyond his experience and so utterly captivating that he can't help but lose himself in it, at least for a little while.
At first he walks a perfectly straight line, almost like he's marching along the beach, but after a while he weaves closer to the water, lets it wash up over his bare feet before stepping hurriedly back to avoid having to wash salt out of his blacks. Though he steps back down to the water line again when he realizes how pleasantly warm it is compared to the cold ocean waters of his childhood. He digs his toes into the sand and crouches, fascinated, to turn over a sand dollar or watch sand crabs scuttle back down into the sand as the water recedes.
"It's beautiful." There's real awe in his voice as he tips his head up to look at her, still crouched down in the sand. "Oh, yes." He frowns a little, and it brings the lines back, adds years to his appearance again as he remembers. "Rough didn't matter, you don't get to choose your conditions in combat, after all." He shrugs, and looks back out to the sun sparkling across the tops of the swells and low surf. "Our squad was lucky, though, we got the dying end of a storm on our day. CC-23-0481 still didn't make it." He hadn't had a name, they'd been too young, had yet to find the courage to claim even that little bit of individuality for themselves. "Swimming here might actually be... nice." Maybe. It's hard to associate swimming, or anything to do with the water, with pleasure, but this place is so tranquil and beautiful that it might actually be possible.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2017-02-14 04:10 am (UTC)At first he walks a perfectly straight line, almost like he's marching along the beach, but after a while he weaves closer to the water, lets it wash up over his bare feet before stepping hurriedly back to avoid having to wash salt out of his blacks. Though he steps back down to the water line again when he realizes how pleasantly warm it is compared to the cold ocean waters of his childhood. He digs his toes into the sand and crouches, fascinated, to turn over a sand dollar or watch sand crabs scuttle back down into the sand as the water recedes.
"It's beautiful." There's real awe in his voice as he tips his head up to look at her, still crouched down in the sand. "Oh, yes." He frowns a little, and it brings the lines back, adds years to his appearance again as he remembers. "Rough didn't matter, you don't get to choose your conditions in combat, after all." He shrugs, and looks back out to the sun sparkling across the tops of the swells and low surf. "Our squad was lucky, though, we got the dying end of a storm on our day. CC-23-0481 still didn't make it." He hadn't had a name, they'd been too young, had yet to find the courage to claim even that little bit of individuality for themselves. "Swimming here might actually be... nice." Maybe. It's hard to associate swimming, or anything to do with the water, with pleasure, but this place is so tranquil and beautiful that it might actually be possible.