His amusement is palpable, as if it could simply be cut with the nearest blade in hand. If she were anything less than the woman he's come to know her to be, Nier doubts his journey would have been filled with nearly as much mirth. Kainé and Weiss exchanges never failed to fill an otherwise bleak world with something Nier can only define as 'light.' Having one without the other is a curious notion. A missing piece to the portrait that has been otherwise completed. Still, Kainé remains a welcome sight.
A part of him is relieved that she hasn't seen it fit to simply dismiss him. If one had asked him if she would have chosen to continue associating herself with him following the end of their little adventure, he wouldn't have been able to answer such confidently.
"She's a real handful," he admits, though doesn't seem at all displeased to be putting all of his cards out on the table.
What use has he in hiding what he thinks? Where others have shunned her for so much of her life, Nier feels only a distinct fondness. An understanding. A desire to give her a place where she can belong. That even should she feel the rest of the world will not accept her, he and Yonah always will. It sounds so definite when he thinks it, and yet he knows very well that it is little more than adamant truth.
Kainé lands and as she rights herself, Nier rolls his shoulders. Age is catching up to him. Time sometimes feels like an irrelevant concept, but he knows it looms over him, pressing proverbial claws into his shoulders and pulling him down into some invisible abyssal embrace. Eventually, time will have its way with him, but he's willing to let the age jokes go for now. He's worked this hard for the life that he can live, after all. He wants to enjoy it. With his daughter. With Kainé. Wil Emil. With the memories that linger in the depths of him of simpler days and times.
"My toes might not work so well the older I get, but—" Nier presses the pad of his forefinger to the side of his nose with a grin that reflects the lopsided one she gives to him. To her, it may seem so simple, but to him, it's water and he is a parched desert. "I'm not an old man, yet. I'd still find you. Kainé smell. I'd detect you all the way down in Seafront."
;-; They are both so perfect...
A part of him is relieved that she hasn't seen it fit to simply dismiss him. If one had asked him if she would have chosen to continue associating herself with him following the end of their little adventure, he wouldn't have been able to answer such confidently.
"She's a real handful," he admits, though doesn't seem at all displeased to be putting all of his cards out on the table.
What use has he in hiding what he thinks? Where others have shunned her for so much of her life, Nier feels only a distinct fondness. An understanding. A desire to give her a place where she can belong. That even should she feel the rest of the world will not accept her, he and Yonah always will. It sounds so definite when he thinks it, and yet he knows very well that it is little more than adamant truth.
Kainé lands and as she rights herself, Nier rolls his shoulders. Age is catching up to him. Time sometimes feels like an irrelevant concept, but he knows it looms over him, pressing proverbial claws into his shoulders and pulling him down into some invisible abyssal embrace. Eventually, time will have its way with him, but he's willing to let the age jokes go for now. He's worked this hard for the life that he can live, after all. He wants to enjoy it. With his daughter. With Kainé. Wil Emil. With the memories that linger in the depths of him of simpler days and times.
"My toes might not work so well the older I get, but—" Nier presses the pad of his forefinger to the side of his nose with a grin that reflects the lopsided one she gives to him. To her, it may seem so simple, but to him, it's water and he is a parched desert. "I'm not an old man, yet. I'd still find you. Kainé smell. I'd detect you all the way down in Seafront."