Ishiah

When he sits at the edge of the dock and the tides have risen as much as they do now, the water manages to lap against Ishiah's ankles, the slope of his shoulders uncharacteristically hunched as he stares off into the distance. The bright chirping of birds has faded into the gentle buzz of insects in the distance, hopping from one blade of grass to the next, and Ishiah appreciates the scene just as he does everything else on the island, with an objective eye and an aching heart. It isn't enough to stop him, nor to throw off the tasks which he dutifully fulfills by the day. It isn't enough to drive him mad for the want of home.

But on the rare occasions that it crosses his mind to ask himself whether or not he's happy, the answer doesn't always seem to be so positive of one.

A pair of footsteps sound in the distance, and Ishiah, finding himself curious, glances over his shoulder to spot a young man headed in this direction, to the edge of the dock. He doesn't suspect that the young man is here for him, but instead likely just seeking the very same thing Ishiah is. A momentary period of solace.

He nods in greeting, a thin smile on his lips.