He really is very foreign, isn’t he… mused Seneca as she listened to Sergei chatter on about his journey on the ship, the dolphins he had seen on the way, the friends he had made, and many other things. He doesn’t know when to shut up.
Seneca, if you aren’t nice to others, they won’t be nice to you. Doesn’t that make sense, sweetie? Her mother’s voice echoed in Seneca’s memory. She sighed and endeavored bravely to listen to Sergei’s inane one-sided conversation.
“And then, we got close to port, and the captain- that’s Captain Morris, with the red beard? He said-”
“Sergei?” interrupted Seneca suddenly. “Where are you staying?”
Sergei looked up, surprised. “Oh, I don’t know. Someone will take me in, won’t they?”
Seneca laughed disbelievingly. “Oh, right. Well, that may be how they do things in Ousland, but here in the Provinces, you can’t just waltz in somewhere and expect people to take care of you.”
“You can’t?” Sergei’s body was all nervousness and sharp lines.