Proposal

The time is arranged. Malik and Seldan come for Zeke at the appointed place, Malik with a piece of paper in his hands -- a sketch of someplace that, just at a glance, doesn't look anything like Alexandria.

The spell is cast, Malik focusing on the paper, and once again the world shifts in strange ways. The light changes as the sun comes from a new angle. The world gets -brighter- as they move to the outside. The smell of salt hangs in air that is at once hotter than Alexandria and somehow, strangely, cool and comfortable as the roar of gentle waves tug along white sands.

Malik looks around, smiling a bit as he gives a nod of satisfaction. "Well. At least we're where we wanted to be. And not out in the water, or lost in the forest," he teases the pair, stuffing the piece of paper in that satchel of his as he sets the thing on the ground, already starting to remove some of the extra layers that he's wearing. It's hot, after all.

A smile comes to Seldan's even features as he looks around them, once they have settled, a smile real and genuine enough to expose many of the ones he's worn lately for the shams that they have been. He seems to recognize the place, and nearly at once looks over to Malik. Despite the armor, he does not seem too uncomfortable, at least not yet. "Is the hut once again ours, or shall we camp upon the beach?"

Zeke looks surprised to be standing on the beach, but pleased. There was a tension in him until the sight of this gentle beach steals away from his shoulders. He's still tense. It's not all of the tension that fades away after all. Nothing so easy as that, but it's some of it. He looks around the unfamiliar location with sharp interest. The water rushing up to meet the beach, the warm sand which awaits under his toes. The sith-makar had very little to bring with him, but he has his staff to lean on, which is good because his body is still largely weak. It helps bear up his weight. "Hut?"

Malik takes off his cloak, setting it on the sand, leaving the vest and shirt visible. He nods to the treeline, where a little path can be found. "There is a hut just past there," he tells Zeke. "Well suited for two, comfortable for three or four. Seldan and I have been here before," he explains, offering the paladin a smile. "And yes, it is ours. Because I bought it last time we were here." Which, apparently, is a thing that he did not so much tell Seldan at the time, given that he had to explain that just now. "Worrying about it being available when we needed to get away seemed a poor choice."

Seldan's eyes widen a little at the mention of having bought the place, then laughs. "Even so? Truly you are a marvel." He, too, removes his cloak and sets it aside, but loops it over his arm. "Shall we take our gear in, then? I would remove the armor, since I need it not here." The last statement is curiously declarative.

The blue-scaled sith-makar nods to Seldan. He hasn't brought much really. Didn't have much to bring. His staff supports much of his weight, proving that he's still physically weaker than he'd like to admit, but he is carefully, and stubbornly bearing his own weight. Still, he looks ill-rested and gaunt. "That would be nisce. Ssso that we are not carrying thingsss around that are not necessssary." He glances toward the direction of the hut and then lingeringly over the beach. "Thisss one could ssstay on the beach, if you want to be alone in the hut?"

Malik turns to Zeke, offering the sith an easy smile. "You are more than welcome in the hut. There are plenty of places on this island that we can find a bit of privacy, should we desire it. We certainly would not have brought you here if you weren't welcome. Though if for some reason you wish to stay on the beach, you are more than welcome to as well. This trip is about all of us. You included." He steps up beside the sith, but makes sure to give him comfortable space. Enough to reach out, if he wishes or needs to, without feeling crowded.

And then, back to Seldan, "Taking the gear in is ideal. I want to change into something cooler while we're here." And a wider grin. "Though the fact that you're only now realizing I'm a marvel makes me think you've been paying little attention," he teases.

Zeke ducks his head, not embarrassed really, but as if he might be. "Thisss one isss jussst aware that matesss do not alwaysss want the company of their kin. Thisss one doess not want to be in your way." He wags his tail behind him, betraying a trace of happiness. He moves slowly in the direction of the hut, leaning on his staff as needed. "Thisss one isss glad that you invited thisss one, but sssurprisssed. Thisss one thinksss that a change of clothing iss alssso wissse. Thisss one wasss not especting it to be ssso warm."

Seldan colors lightly, his eyes lowering at the teasing, but he keeps whatever is in his mind to himself for the moment. Instead, he turns to Zeke. "It is as Malik says, Zeke. We will not want for privacy, should we desire it, and it would please me for you to sleep where you wish, whether that be within or without." He turns to follow the others up towards the hut, seemingly unconcerned by the pace. "You shall not be a trouble, at all. Come."

The hut isn't far away. Close enough that Zeke might be able to walk comfortably by himself, though the other two men certainly offer assistance if they need it. Stepping inside, it's as they described. Big enough to accommodate all three of them, hammocks in the corners in lieu of the more traditional bed, and comfortable seating for the lazier times. The wizard steps inside, stripping down to everything but his pants as he rifles through the bag, looking to Seldan. "Did you bring something cooler, or shall you borrow something of mine?" he asks playfully. And then, over to Zeke, "If you need to find something, the village is but a short distance away. We can conjure a horse for you, if you're up for riding. I saw a few sith there last time. We might find something that suits you better."

Zeke is glad of the short distance to the hut, though he is tired enough by the time that everyone reaches their destination. He seems momentarily entranced by the hammocks, before setting his few things down. He wags his tail at Malik and rolls his right shoulder briefly. "Thisss iss very nisce. Thisss one isss not in need of any-thing." He follows Malik's example however, if more slowly. Stripping out of his robes down to his short pants for the sake of comfort. He folds everything neatly away into his belonging which he finds an appropriate place for before taking a seat which at this point he seems to need. "Thissss isss a lovely plassce."

Seldan takes a good bit longer, setting down his own gear and laying aside cloak and pack, then beginning to remove the armor. This is something of a process, and one that some may know goes faster with help. He's ready to assist Zeke if needed, once that is done and the pieces similarly stowed, but he then sets about removing some of the other magical gear he wears. He pauses at the silver headband, though, eyes lowering pensively. "I have cooler wear, it is well."

The wizard though seems to have a particular plan. He reaches into the bag, pulling out a length of cloth, white with gold trim and blue flowers in a cobalt dye, of some sort. He turns just enough to preserve some sense of modesty, but given how easily he does so likely does it for the benefit of Zeke, stripping out of the pants and wrapping that cloth around his waist as he fastens it in a secure, cross-over fashion. The various jewelry that he wears he leaves on, for the moment, bare feet padding along the wooden floor as the tsuran, for once, dresses in something more brightly colored than the drab earth tones he tends to wear in the city. He offers a good, long stretch, like a cat let out of a space that it's been curled up too long in, looking to the others. "Well. If you're sure you're alright then."

He moves over to the hammock, grabbing one of the fruits in a bowl along the way as a knife appears from only-the-gods know where, starting in on lunch as he waits for the others.

Zeke tilts his head at Seldan, noticing his kin's body language. "Isss ssssome-thing on your mind Sseldan?" He relaxes in his seat, comfortable for the moment.

"These shall suffice." Because of the length of time it takes to remove the armor, Seldan is the only one who has not yet made it all the way to comfortable. He's still paused on the silver headband, and speaks absently to Malik. "Kin ..." he asks slowly. "I ..." All at once, he pulls off the headband, to reveal a much more complex headband, and the fact that even in the brief minutes they had been in the sun of the beach, his skin has gone from its usual alabaster-white shade to a patchy alabaster-and-gray-and-black look that some might almost call diseased, or wrong-looking. "Does this trouble you?" He stands at attention, the red velvet hat that the silver headband became when he removed it still in his hands, as one waiting for judgment.

Malik watches Seldan pull the headband off, pausing in his chewing of the sweet-smelling fruit long enough to observe this particular interchange. Eyes go to the mottled gray skin, and then to the sith, as the tsuran sits up a bit straighter, waiting to see what the consequences of this particular decision are.

Zeke tilts his head at the paladin, and then he blinks. Without thinking he rises to his feet, shifting toward the other man with a confused expression in his green eyes. "Ssseldan... your ssskin. Are you hurt?" The blue-scaled sith is clearly concerned for Seldan. "Trouble? Why would you assssk if it troublesss thisss one?"

Seldan's eyes lower, the hat still in his hand. "No, Zeke. It is a side effect of the plague. In some ... it leaves a permanent mark. It does not hurt, nor am I evil, nor fallen, nor am I yet ill. I ... show it to few. In a half-mark's time outside, my skin will turn entirely black, but do I leave the sunshine, it will fade in a mark or two. If it troubles you, I will conceal it."

Malik's voice is soft. "We all have scars from our time with the plague," he offers. "Some far less visible than others. Scars in body, and mind." He still just sits comfortably in one of the hammocks, legs tucked up under him, looking quite different than he normally does. "None of us have made it out unscathed. I think the question is, who does it bother -more-? The viewer, or the afflicted?"

Zeke nods at Malik's words. "Thisss one thinksss that it musst bother /you/ Ssseldan. Thisss one doess not care about your coloring, sssso long asss it doesss not indicate illnesss." He wags his tail at Seldan and shakes his head a little. "You have no need to hide any-thing about your-self Sseldan. We are kin."

The set of Seldan's shoulders read nothing so much as one waiting for a condemnation that does not come. The shoulders relax, slowly, and he sets the hat in his hands aside, atop the gear. He does, at least, look up, and when he does, he wears a quiet smile that speaks much of gratitude. "Thank you, both. I ... have come to terms with it, but I would be judged for my deeds, not for the color of my skin. Not all are so understanding."

Malik, finally, scoots off of the hammock, moving over as he splits the rest of the fruit in two, offering Zeke and Seldan both a quarter. It has a sweet, heady smell, bright red on the outside but bone white on the inside, with tiny black seeds. Malik has apparently just been scooping out the white part and eating it, seeds and all. He leans over, kissing Seldan's collarbone lightly. "The people that care for you won't care what color you are. I only tease you when you turn so bright a red. Not black." And then, back to Zeke. "We're lucky to have a friend like you. Others have been -- less than kind."

With gentle fingers Zeke accepts the bit of fruit. Carefully he sniffs it, then wags his tail once again. "Thisss one doesss not know why any-one would care about your coloring Ssseldan, but it sssaddensss thisss one to think that sssomeone might be unkind becaussse of a thing that you can not change." His tail lowers slightly and he slowly eases back down into his seat. "Thisss one hasss not sssseen Sseldan turn red. Doessss thisss have ssome ssignifigance?"

Before he accepts his quarter of fruit, Seldan, too, shucks his shirt and boots, leaving the trousers intact but revealing the strange designs on his skin. Some are partially concealed by the patches of gray and black that mottle his skin, but the mottling does not appear to touch the set of arcane designs down the back of his spine. When that is done and stowed, he accepts the fruit, but does not eat yet, instead explaining, "A softskin turning pink, or red, means embarrassment, Zeke." As if on cue, he colors a little, flushing pink.

Malik moves around behind him, circling his arms around Seldan's waist but talking to Zeke. "Black is seen as a color of evil," Malik explains. "Or disease. It evokes fear in many. Some simply don't, or can't, understand that there is more than just the superficial there. When you come in such limited colors, any deviation tends to be noticed quickly." He laughs as Seldan starts to turn a bit pink though. "Too easy. I think you just do it on cue now."

Zeke sniffs his bit of fruit one last time before finally eating it cautiously. His tongue flicks out to run along the edge of his maw, catching whatever juice lingers there. "How ssstrange it mussst be to wear your embarasssment on your ssskin." He seems amused with the idea, tail wagging behind him softly. "Thisss one doesss not underssstand. How can a color be evil? Thisss one might underssstand the consscern over sssickness if one isss disscolored, but sssoftsskinsss come in all ssortsss of odd colors."

He blinks at Seldan. "Isss not black a color that sssome ssoftssskinss come in naturally? It ssseemsss strange that othersss would be uneasssy about a color that isss ssso?"

Seldan leans back, just a little, into Malik, letting the wizard wrap his arms around his waist with a warm smile up at him. "It is ... a different shade," he explains. "But at times do softskins, the less wise ones, judge others by the color of their skin. The Temple was ... not kind when first I returned, after being cured." He leaves it at that, scooping the flesh of the fruit and eating it from his fingers with a deep breath. "If it does not trouble you, then I shall make no more of it."

Malik nods. If Seldan doesn't want to tell that particular story, they don't have to tell it. But he answers Zeke all the same. Halfway, anyway. "It's my understanding that the sith do something similar, except by scent, no?" He releases Seldan, moving to stand in the door, wrapping his fingers around one of the bars at the top that support the shelter and stretching forward out into the sun. "We should go enjoy the water while the sun is up. Here, the moon comes later, but stays longer."

"It doesss not." Answers Zeke, to Seldan's concerns. Offering another wag of his tail at the paladin before turning his attention to Malik. "Thisss isss ssso. Thiss one isss very glad at timesss, that sssoftssskinsss are not aware of sssuch thingsss. Though... Thisss one wisshess that you could sssmell the world asss the People do." A soft sigh escapes Zeke, and then, he is slowly rising to his feet once more. "Thisss one would like very much to lay in the sssand while the sssun iss still up."

"Indeed." Seldan finishes his quarter of fruit, and moves to trail the others back out into the sunshine, but before he does, moves to dig into his haversack. He palms a very small drawstring bag, small enough to fit into a hand, and moves to follow the others back out into the sun, wearing only trousers, belt, and his usual jewelry.

Malik turns, grinning at Zeke. "You can lay in the sand if you wish," he tells the sith. "Though I wouldn't stay there too long. The water here is as clear as crystal. You can see forever down there. And the fish are the sort of colorful explosion that you only see in an artist's picture in Alexandria. Or a tsuran wagon." He waggles his brows at that. "From what I remember, they taste nice too. So long as you avoid the pointy ones. Pretty to look at, but you'll really hate yourself if you get stuck."

Zeke makes an low amused thrumming in his throat and makes his slow easy way back toward the beach. "It hasss been sssome time ssince thisss one hasss been able to basssk in the sssun." Indeed, just being out in the sun seems to put him ever more at ease. Tension has been slowly spilling out of the sith the longer that he's here. He tilts his head up at the sun and wags his tail as he takes each careful step. "More fisssh sssoundsss good though. Ssshall we have that for dinner?"

Seldan laughs himself at Zeke's eagerness, but nods. "Fish will serve, what say you, Malik? I do not yet hunger, but if Zeke would hunt, then I am most pleased to remain and wait."

"Fish sounds fine to me," he agrees, stepping out of the doorway and into the sunlight. Bare feet move through the sand, the wizard spreading his arms out wide as he feels the light on his skin, turning to the others as he reaches out to pick one of the local flora, something bright pink with a bright yellow center, sniffing at it carefully before tossing it to Zeke. "They use this in perfumes on the island," he tells the sith, who has the much better sense of scent. "If smelling the world is how you best experience it, I don't think you'll find any boredom here."

Surprised by the throw, Zeke catches the flower a bit awkwardly, but he snorts at Malik in amusement as he brings the flower closer to his snout. Almost immediately he snorts again, breathing outwardly in a little puff of air. "It isss very pungent, but pleasant." He twirls the flower in his fingers for a moment before continuing to the beach. The sight of the clear open water fills his eyes and he sighs happily at the sight of this rare paradise. "Thissss one mussst thank you kin, for bringing thiss one here. It isss..." He doesn't have the proper words.

"The idea was Mal's, and I agree that it is a most excellent one." Seldan smiles, watching Malik and Zeke interact thoughtfully. He does not seem to have much to say at the moment, content to let the sunlight drench his face, despite the fact that at its touch, the mottled patches begin to grow almost immediately, if slowly.

"I have a great many good ideas!" Malik calls. "You -really- should pay more attention!" But the tone is teasing and playful, and given the brightness of the grin on the man's face, he's not entirely serious. What he -is- serious about, though, is getting down to the water. He wastes no time at all, diving into the salty blue water headfirst with a boyish shout of glee, hair dripping and plastered around his head in spikes as he comes back up, floating on his back.

The blue-scaled sith-makar slowly settles into the sand near the water. Far enough away that he wont be disturbed by the water. His tail wags behind him gently. In very little time Zeke is sprawled out in the sand like a sleepy lizard, if a very large one. His eyes half-lid and he watches the two men that brought him here enjoy themselves. It's clear even at a glance how much he is enjoying himself. Even if he isn't doing anything at the moment.

Seldan is considerably slower about taking himself down to the water's edge than Malik was, but after a glance at a clearly contented Zeke, he, too, takes himself down to the water's edge. He ties the drawstring bag he'd palmed in the hut around his belt, then wades into the shallow, letting the waves wash around feet, then ankles. He gradually wades deeper, although seemingly less out of fear than a desire to take his time.

Malik swims over to where Seldan is, the wizard's shoulders underwater as he looks at the paladin with bright, playful eyes. "I think that I owe you a submersion," he says, moving just a bit closer to put the tiniest amount of actual action to the threat. "But I suppose I'll call it even if you and Zeke come out with me later. I'm sure that I can find us a form more fitting for moving through the water." And then, a glance to Zeke. "Well. For you and I, anyway. I think that he might have been born there, to see him move through it."

Zeke is close enough to hear the conversation between Malik and Seldan, but he's not inclined to intervene in their time together - particularly not when he's enjoying his sunbathing so much.

"I cannot speak for him, but I would be pleased to do so, when evening prayers are done." Seldan grins down at the wizard, watching him closely despite the words. "You have a great many wonderful ideas," he agrees, "but I would not have you think that all of your ideas are without compare. I would not have your ego growing so great that you cannot bear it."

"Don't worry," Malik teases back, patting Seldan on the bicep. "The Arcanists are typically quick to point out how very wrong I am about nearly everything. The world remains balanced, my ego kept a reasonable size and heft." And then, a touch more seriously, those fingers move to the scar. Almost unconsciously. A reflex, more than anything. "There are plenty of things left in the world to remind me that some of my ideas don't turn out as well as I might have hoped." Even if they -mostly- do.

"So it is with us all." Seldan reaches out to quietly trace the scar on Malik's neck, his own smile fading at that. "I am grateful that mostly your price for error is no more than harsh words, and pray that it remains so. I ... have something for you." His fingers seek to move across Malik's shoulder and down his arm, to the hand.

Malik frowns. "Harsh words and uninvited guests," he reminds Seldan. Which isn't -entirely- true, but given that the invitation was made under duress, he's going to go with it anyway. He follows Seldan's hand, though, looking down with a laugh. "I haven't been in the water long enough for my fingers to prune, just yet," he assures, leaning in and pressing his forehead to Seldan's, though he keeps a watchful eye on the giant blue lizard just basking in the sun.

All of Seldan's smile fades at the mention of an uninvited guest, and he looks away just a little, fumbling with the small pouch that he'd tied to his belt. Malik might notice that a fourth ring has joined the other three between his hands, this one an unadorned platinum band. It takes his a moment, but he works the knot free, and from the pouch, fishes another one just like it. "Let him watch," he whispers, very quietly, letting the waves lap around their legs. The inside of the band is as unadorned as the outside, except for a maker's mark. He swallows, then asks, "Would you have the Mourner consider a wedding gift, after all?"

Malik looks down, unsure of what's happening. His own smile is still there, fading a bit as Seldan's does. But as the ring comes out, it all starts to become a little bit clearer -- and the smile grows a bit more, Malik's fingers tightening a bit on Seldan's bicep. He looks up at the paladin, and then down at the simple ring once more, his brain needing a moment to catch up. And then, with a bright laugh, he nods, pressing his forehead to Seldan's once more. "Of course," he agrees brightly. "You need not even ask. You already know I will." And then, almost as a point of pride, he adds, playfully, "But I am not wearing a dress. No matter how much the druidess or your mother insist it is traditional."

Some of the shyness fades, Seldan's own grin brightening with the acceptance. He reaches for Malik's free hand, to place the ring on it, but laughs as he does so. "No? And yet you wear what you wear now?" The words are for Malik only, bright laughter and affection mingling in the Myrrish-tinted words.

"I'll have you know that there are statues of gods that wear something very akin to this. I can show you the temples, knocked down though they are," he laughs. Not to mention at least one potentially divine entity that showed up in a bath towel in his very recent past. "A simple wrap around the waist is acceptable, and traditional tsuran attire. I've seen the outfits in the Myrrish shops. I have no intention of wearing my body weight in lace and frills," he laughs.

There's a low rumble from the sand. "Marriage issss the sssoft-sskin word for cihuaa yesss?" Zeke's voice is low and lazy but interested.

Malik looks at the ring, grinning brightly, though he rolls his eyes at the admonishing look and the mention of the bath towel. "You are very hung up on the part where he was in a towel," Malik says. And as quick as lightning, the trained fighter has his arms around the paladin's waist, pulling him under the waves in the same easy, practiced manner that Seldan used on him, only catching Zeke's question as he sinks below the water.

Whether Seldan heard the question, or any answer he might have had, is impossible to tell, because the paladin goes down beneath with the waves with an inarticulate yelp of surprise and bubbles as he sinks below the surface of the water. Once below, though, he seems able to breathe plenty well enough, both of them hitting the sandy bottom quickly.

Malik steals a quick kiss, but points back up to the surface,indicating Seldan should follow. The wizard is already pulling himself out of the water, wringing water from his hair as he uses a simple spell to dry the probably-not-smart-color-choice white waistwrap, cocking his head to the side. "I -- am afraid that I cannot say," Malik answers, looking confused. "What is a -- chihuahua?" The word is mangled, sure, and he clearly doesn't speak this tongue, but he's giving it a shot!

Zeke is chuckling by the time that the pair manages to resurface. "Cihuaa is... a mate? But cihuaa meansss that one intendsss for the relationssship to lasst a long time. A mate issss not necesssarily ssso among the People. Though, thisss one hasss difficulty finding the wordsss to explain it."

Seldan is slower to follow, and while he does surface, rather than pulling himself from the water, he swims deeper and calls from the water, the crystal blue water doing less for his modesty than the swirling sand stirred up from the bottom. "They are not dissimilar, Zeke," he calls, ginger-blonde hair plastered to skin whose black patches are fusing and merging into a single ebony surface, concealing most of his tattoos entirely.

"Cihuau," Malik tries again, getting better but not quite there, "is probably more like -- 'spouse'. For something more short term, there are a variety of terms, some of them more polite than others. But perhaps the most common you will hear is 'fuck', if the word means what I think it means." The tsuran seems to have no issues with such language, or such concepts. He turns, shrugging back to Seldan. "Right?"

It's a good thing his skin is black, or he might be as red as the fruit he ate earlier.

"That... 'fuck' is another word for the act of mating?" Zeke's gentle curiosity is... perhaps not helpful. "Thisss one isss not overly familiar with thissss word."

Whatever Seldan is doing out there, he seems to finish in relatively short order, and he, too wades out of the water, wet sand clinging to his trousers. He doesn't seem to have heard Malik's comment, and comes close enough just in time to catch Zeke's. He stops short, right there, ankle-deep in the water, and its' a good thing that his skin is ebony right now. It makes him a -bit- more difficult to read, although the set of shoulders and clear wince on his expression give him away. "That is so, but a foul term for the act indeed." Malik gets a -look- that one might fairly read as, _what are you teaching my brother?_ He coughs, spitting out a bit of seawater.

Malik moves back over to Seldan, shaking his head. "It's a perfectly acceptable term except in the highest echelons of what the rich consider society," he reminds Seldan. "And also perhaps the most common term. Though I would be interested in what you would use that is as efficient and universal without being 'foul'," he teases, looking back over at Zeke with one of those reassuring 'do not mind him' looks.

Zeke tilts his head and if anything seems more amused than ever. He sits up slowly, shedding sand in every which direction. He stretches slightly, enjoying the lassitude in his muscles and then slowly rising upwards to his feet. Once there he stretches again and wags his tail at the two men. "Thisss one isss glad to ssee kin choose a cihuaa. To sssee kin happy." He reaches out, offering his flesh and blood hand to Malik.

Seldan's eyebrows lift at Malik, staring in frank shock. "I ... I suppose the teleportation into a camel stall is now explained, for it seems certain that you were born in one." There's still a light of affection, even as he chides, but the entire thing gets dropped as Zeke offers his flesh and blood hand to Malik, an entirely different smile creeping across the even features.

Malik looks down at the hand, caught off guard for a moment. The blue sith that doesn't like to be touched has his hand out. So many possibilities race through the tsuran's mind in that heartbeat or two it takes him to make a decision -- but thankfully, that decision is mostly made on autopilot. Malik takes Zeke's hand gently, a look of pride and happiness falling over the wizard. Whatever dirty-yet-poignant comeback he was going to make to Seldan is forgotten, for now. "Thank you," he tells Zeke. "I -- do try to make him happy as much as I can."

Zeke's tail falls silent behind him as Malik accepts his hand, but the blue-scaled sith clasps Malik's hand and nods to him. "Thisss one hasss notissced that your pressscensse lightensss hisss mood." The blue-scaled sith takes his hand back gently and gives himself a little shake to dislodge the sand on his scales. "Now, thissss one will go sssee about catching usss sssome dinner yesss?"

"That does he do, kin." Seldan watches the interaction between the two with a quiet, almost shy reserve. "I would be pleased to have you witness, even as I will yet witness for you, as once we spoke, if you will yet have me." He leaves that out there, but as the topic turns to more mundane matters, he turns as well. "As you will, Zeke. You are better suited to hunting in the water than either of us."

Malik turns back to Seldan, moving to wrap his arms around the man's waist. "If you would hunt with him, that can be arranged," he says. "There are plenty of magics that would allow it. Who knows, you might even be quite the lady-killer as one of the sith-makar for a few hours." He looks down at Seldan, that bright, teasing energy still there, but the wizard is clearly riding a high. And he keeps running his fingers over the new ring, bright and shiny. "Well. The good news is, I no longer have to find a way to tell your mother that we aren't actually engaged."

Zeke moves slowly but surely moves toward the beach, waving a claw at the two men. "You can ressst, or perhapsss enjoy the water sssome more. Thisss one will catch the fisssh." He reaches the water and pauses briefly to enjoy the cool water before he steps further and further into the ocean.

Seldan makes no move to do anything of the kind, instead resting his hands on the wizard's shoulders, allowing himself to be snuggled close. "That does help, though Father will be most incensed, and I do not doubt that Reunion will have an opinion as well." He does not sound particularly worried by this. "No, let him hunt. Even so transformed, I could not pass for one of the sith-makar, Mal. They ... think differently. I would leave him to his peace, and us to ours. Perhaps we should ready the fire and cooking gear."

Malik nods. "I have a feeling that your honored father," again using that slightly mocking tone, "and my wise mother," using that same tone, "are going to have things to say about it. Which is why I simply wasn't planning on asking permission from mine. Or telling her, for that matter. Perhaps we should just run away to Tashraan and find a quick ceremony, free of prying eyes, save those we trust. Zeke. Your mother." At the mention of the campfire, he already has that bead out, dropping it on the sand as a workable blaze sparks up. "I was -going- to thank you properly for my shiny new ring, but now you've convinced me that what I had in mind is a thing most unclean." A slight, teasing push here. "A new complaint, it seems. Though speaking of complaints -- please do remind reunion that my threat stands firm. And it's a -very- big ocean out there." Sweetness and innocent and light, that.

Zeke nods to the pair of men before leaving them to their conversation, ducking beneath the waves to begin the hunt. In truth, he's nowhere near as skilled as Seldan is at this sort of thing, and he's out of practice from what little he knew. But he is persistent. The sith is soon haunting the schools of fish as they make their way through the ocean. Their bright colors make it easy to find them, but these are smaller than those that he was hunting before.

Seldan's laugh is tinged with just a touch of embarrassment for the openness of the suggestion, taking the push in good part. "I merely did not wish him to use the term indiscriminately, not understanding all that it implies," he protests. "Perhaps later shall we find time to ourselves. We need but use a rope trick amid the trees. I should fetch our cooking gear from the hut, though." He kisses Malik on the shoulder, then turns to dash up the beach towards the hut.

It does not take him long to return with his haversack full of cooking gear, and this he begins to set out, to prepare for Zeke's eventual return.

Malik leaves the two men to it. Seldan has the cookware, and Zeke is apparently on top of the hunting. So Malik, in the meantime, simply takes out that sword from his bag, moving along the beach as he practices his forms. While the man might be more skilled as an archer, with the ability to hit a sparrow in the eye from a hundred yards on a bad day, his form with the sword isn't half bad either. For an arcane caster, he is clearly a competent fighter, if not as masterful as some others.

The blue-scaled sith-makar throws his fish, those that he manages to trick into his claws up onto the beach. Some, are bound to hop their way back into the ocean as he isn't as strong as he once was and small though the fish might be, throwing a fish is not as easy as it might seem. Still, its somewhat better than swimming back and forth to the shore each time. Eventually however, he returns to land, exhausted and with a bevy of fish of varying colors and sizes. He stares down at the pile he's made a bit speculatively. "Do you think that isss enough fisssh?"

As luck would have it, Seldan is able to rescue a few of those fish, from his seat by the campfire. Once the cooking gear is set up, a thing that does not take long, he has nothing to do but sharpen a new-looking fillet knife and wait, and so, when fish come flying up onto the beach, he is quick to his feet, scooping them up one by one. A few he throws back for being too small to be useful, but the rest he gathers into a bucket and sets about preparing and filleting the fish one by one. When Zeke comes up, he'll see the paladin hard at work, for it's a relatively slow process, but he's getting there.

Malik moves back to the campfire as the others arrive, looking down at Zeke's haul with that same easy, bright grin that he usually wears. "It's good for today, surely. Probably most of tomorrow. If we're planning on being here longer, we might have to catch some more. Maybe." Which means 'yes' in smartass, naturally. He asks Zeke, "How was your swim? Do you prefer the saltwater to lakewater?" He looks down at Seldan, and at the fish bucket. "I would help you, but..." He waggles the new ring. "So shiny. Wouldn't want to get that all over it."

Zeke shakes himself a little, trying to dry himself off somewhat before settling down on the sand. "Thisss one findsss it easssier to ssswim in sssalt water. It sssmellsss very sstrongly." He glances at the ocean with a somewhat fond expression. Then looks at the fish with his stomach grumbling lightly. "If you like Ssseldan, thiss one will asssisst you. Sssince your cihuaa iss indisssposssed." He wags his tail at this last bit.

Seldan in his cleaning appears to have opted to skin and filet the fish, and appears to be casting the guts and scales into a small hollow next to him in the sand as he works. He simply snorts at Malik, but says nothing, instead turning to Zeke. "Your help would be welcome indeed," he answers, and shows the sith-makar how to remove the scales, gut it, and remove the head and gills, then filet it. It's very likely that the sith are less elaborate in their cleaning process, and the paladin appears to be using a minor cantrip to clean the fish, rather than running them under water.

Malik sits down in the sand, working on some of the other things that go with it. Reaching into his own bag, he produces what appears to be several sorts of wild rice, a tub of chicken fat, and some kind of cornmeal. All of this gets put in various pans as the other two work on cleaning the fish, the wizard working carefully. What he lacks in survival skills, the spellcaster makes up for in his ability to follow a recipe precisely, and soon, schmaltzy rice and cornbread join the smells of ocean air.

The blue-scaled sith can handle a knife it seems, and he catches onto how to fillet the fish quickly. Zeke's tail wags behind him as he works. There's no spell from him that will clean the fish when he's done, so he leaves that part to Seldan. Really, Seldan's not wrong in his assumption that sith aren't inclined to prepare their fish so much, but Zeke isn't complaining about the work. With both of them at it, it's done in half the time after all. When the last of the fish is done, Zeke washes his hands and watches the fire burn merrily.

Seldan is perfectly willing to accept the split in tasking, and takes care of cleanup readily. Once all of the fish are cleaned and filleted for Malik's cooking efforts, he uses the last of the spell to clean his own hands and the knife. He then uses the lip of the emptied bucket to scoop fish guts and sand into it, then carries the lot down to the water's edge a little distance from the camp and casts it in. A second spell cleans the bucket, and he brings it back, setting it down nearby. He, too, seems content to watch the fire for now, his bearing quiet and meditative.

Malik can manage what to others might be a complex task, or series of them. The fish gets a bit of herbs and spices, and placed in some leaves next to the fire to steam. The cookware is reserved for the bread, which is being made in a skillet, and the rice, in a little pot not too far from the actual coals. The wizard keeps it all going in time, checking it here and there like it were some manner of alchemical process that he simply needs to mind until completion, going in a specific order.

Which, in a way, it is. It doesn't take long, and everything is ready. Malik pulls the leaves out first, and then sets the various pots directly in the sand to stop them from cooking, scooping out rice and break right next to the fish on those leaves, letting the others decide how much of what is available they want to take. Smiling up at Seldan teasingly, he promises, "I only used the ones you like. Not the peppers." Those seem reserved for him, given the sprinkle of red powders that go on the fish. And the rice.

Zeke doesn't immediately dive on the food, he waits patiently until everything is ready before gathering up a portion for himself. It's a fair amount. Less than one might expect from a sith of his size, but still reasonable. He eats showing far more in the way of manners than the last time that they shared a meal together, though with a clear eagerness that suggests that he hasn't been eating very much of late. His tail wiggles happily behind him as he digs in. "You have a fair hand with ssspicesss alssso Malik. Thisss iss quite good!"

"He does have a talent, when he chooses to." Seldan's grin at Malik as he gathers a portion for himself and digs in is an easy and good-natured one. He lets Zeke take all he wishes, then chooses a portion for himself, settling down a little ways from the fire with it and eating with considerable attention to manners and proper eating utensils. Not, perhaps, as fussy as he might be at a table, but neither does he ignore the proprieties.

As he does so, he watches the sun set from his seat in the sand, out of reach of the tide.

"Seldan and I disagree on the best way to prepare things," he teases right back. "I like food with flavor. He enjoys it without. We've not yet found a middle ground that we can completely agree on, yet." He gives the pair a wink, settling back with his own fish -- which is medium spicy, but nowhere near the tsuran's usual fare. The ring must have him in a particularly cooperative mood, as he keeps catching his reflection in it while he eats, the smile growing larger for a moment before he glances around self-consciously and resumes his meal.

Zeke chuckles lightly in amusement at Malik and Seldan's banter. "Ssso... The ringsss." Zeke motions to Malik's hand which the other man just happened to be looking at. "Thisss one hass ssseen sssuch before. It isss a ssoft-skin ritual yesss? What isss the purpossse of it?"

"That is so, if by _flavor_ you mean to say _I wish my tongue burnt from my head_," Seldan retorts as he eats, and in the light of the setting sun, Zeke may catch that amid his rings, he wears one exactly like the one he gave to Malik, as well as the wooden one Malik gave him. His eyes remain on the ocean for a moment more before he turns back to the other two. "It is a symbol of the commitment one has made. One such had he given to me, and I knew not how to respond, for a time." Briefly, his eyes lower. "Ofttimes does the woman in a marriage wear two, one she accepts when she agrees to marry, and the second that both receive upon the wedding itself." He sets aside his plate and pulls the shiny metal twin to Malik's from his hand, holding it out for Zeke to examine. It is a plain band, with a maker's mark on the inside of the band and no other apparent adornment.

Malik nods, letting Seldan explain. He watches as Seldan hands Zeke the ring, smiling a bit at it. "Each culture has their own tradition. Some involve rings. Others involve the exchange of gifts, or property. The message is always clear, though. You're agreeing to walk beside another, in good times and bad. It shows your devotion to the other. Your desire to entwine your life with theirs." Malik works at his own meal a bit more slowly. "Fortunately -- we can make our own traditions. And I think two sets of rings, one chosen by each, is fitting. No?" And then, to Zeke, "How does your culture approach such things? When you decide upon a cihuaa?" Finally, the word comes out right, even if the accent is strange. Progress is made!

Zeke glances down at Malik's question, his food mostly gone, but enough left for him to look down at what remains of it. "Among the People, females desside ssuch thing. You sssee... Femalesss are.... the nesst-tendersss. Thisss one doesss not know how to esxplain exactly but.." He shifts the fish with one claw and considers his words. "Cryosssanthia, ssshe chossse thisss one. In ssspite of everything... all thisss onesss flawsss... ssshe ssstill chosse thiss one."

"I could say the same for Malik, Zeke." Seldan's tone is gentle, and again, his eyes drift out over the ocean. "I am not so great as many think me, and in truth am I daily reminded of how small I truly am. Yet did he choose me anyway, and for that, I am both honored and grateful. I ... must take the gift as freely given, I suppose."

Malik smiles at that. "Freely given, certainly. Practically thrown," he chuckles. "From the first day that I ran into you at the library --" Literally, in this case, though Zeke might not have a reason to know that "-- I was hoping that it would be you. You probably knew that." He offers Seldan a loving smile. "If either of us should be honored, it's me. You took a chance on me. One that you didn't have to take. And certainly on a person beneath what you could find elsewhere. You're greater than you give yourself credit. And I'm the honored one. You chose -me-. And I remember that every day." And then, back to Zeke. "I see no flaws in you," Malik answers back. "If anything -- I think that someone is lucky to have you, too."

"Thisss one agreesss with Malik, Sseldan. You value yoursself too little. Thisss one isss sssimply glad that you have a cihuaa that makesss you happy. And who findsss joy in you." Zeke nods his head to Malik and eats the last of his fish smoothly, though he's glad that the others can not smell his embarassment. "Thisss one iss glad to have sssuch kin ass you both, to think ssso highly of thisss one."

"In truth do I feel the same, Zeke. You are a one that anyone would be proud to call friend or kin, for all that none of us are perfect." Seldan, too, is eating more slowly, his eyes on the horizon as if watching and waiting for something, and trails off, frowning.

Malik considers Zeke's statement. Watches the man's body language. "Zeke..." He starts. "Does your cihuaa make you happy, too?" It's the natural follow-up question to a statement like those that came before, all 'chosen' and 'glad for other people', but little indication that the blue man is happy himself. Of course, the wizard does it without an ounce of diplomacy, just cutting straight to the heart of the matter, even when he tries to phrase it as gently as possible.

-End