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Katjuk favors the small company with a broad grin, but his eyes are troubled and his brows drawn. "I am Katjuk," he says. His deep brown eyes fall on Jane. "You sell yourself short," he says with a nervous smile, "you know more than I." ”I am puzzled, I don't really know what to make of this." His mind is far off, but instinct kicks in and he asks Jane, "How are you feeling?" He is still processing internally what is happening. Is it related to the nightmares he still gets from time to time? The quiet stillness of the place soothes him - it reminds him of childhood. And yet at the same time, it has an odd beauty unlike anything he has ever seen. Staring off at the horizon he says absently, "I wish I had my paints." |
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Katjuk favors the small company with a broad grin, but his eyes are troubled and his brows drawn. "I am Katjuk," he says. His deep brown eyes fall on Jane. "You sell yourself short," he says with a nervous smile, "you know more than I."
”I am puzzled, I don't really know what to make of this." His mind is far off, but instinct kicks in and he asks Jane, "How are you feeling?"
He is still processing internally what is happening. Is it related to the nightmares he still gets from time to time?
The quiet stillness of the place soothes him - it reminds him of childhood. And yet at the same time, it has an odd beauty unlike anything he has ever seen. Staring off at the horizon he says absently, "I wish I had my paints."