(no subject)
Ian sat in the shallows with Jamie in his lap, the water lapping around the wee lad's legs. Isolde would approve, Ian though; the lass had so much of the sea in her, she'd want her firstborn son introduced early. There were clouds scudding across the sky and Ian felt good with the sun shining down on tattooed shoulders, as he watched the colour of the sea change to reflect the sky.
When he was fourteen years old, he'd crossed the wide ocean on a ship, and he'd never again gone home. People told him that nobody left the island by their will, that ships only sailed in wide circles and came home again. Ian could understand how that might make some people miserable, but, for him, to him, it sounded more like a promise.
"Ye'll never lose yer home, wee man," he said, lifting Jamie out of his lap and dangling him so his little feet were kicking in the warm waves. "Ye'll always come right back t'where ye started."
There was some comfort in that.
ooc: This is me taking baby steps. ST, LT v.welcome.
When he was fourteen years old, he'd crossed the wide ocean on a ship, and he'd never again gone home. People told him that nobody left the island by their will, that ships only sailed in wide circles and came home again. Ian could understand how that might make some people miserable, but, for him, to him, it sounded more like a promise.
"Ye'll never lose yer home, wee man," he said, lifting Jamie out of his lap and dangling him so his little feet were kicking in the warm waves. "Ye'll always come right back t'where ye started."
There was some comfort in that.
ooc: This is me taking baby steps. ST, LT v.welcome.