There she goes again, that weird open-mouth motion followed by a soft snarl. "Let him know his worst friend dropped by and would like to see him," she not-answers, at last; frustration quickens her pace towards the beach, and -

The change in her posture is nearly instant. The sounds of the waves, the call of the gulls, the scent of real salt in the air on actual wind, it stops the lass in her tracks. She sucks in a shuddering breath, and scrubs at her eyes with the back of her hand. God fucking damn it all. It's nothing special. It's not!