[ Sometimes, Trahearne's doubts have a vice-like hold of him. They cause him to falter, hesitate, second-guess himself, put himself down. That his doubts have been bubbling to the surface so much as of late has been terrible for him, letting him make decisions he would not have otherwise made. He wishes his confidence would return to him, that he could be free of this, but now they bubble over and consume him.

He only watches as Otegine speaks, reverently taking in every word. Like there is a hidden secret in what he says to making this all better. But it isn't that easy--it will never be that easy. ]

...Thank you, Otegine. You've given me a lot to think about. And...I believe you may be right.

[ It will be hard not to blame himself, to shoulder the responsibility for all of Syrlya's negative feelings, towards Trahearne or otherwise, but he will try.

At least, he thinks, if there's one thing he's good at, it's listening.

Slowly, he shifts from the rock, wiping his eyes as he does. The weight on his chest feels no better, but he understands its edges now. Perhaps he'll figure out how to handle it. ]

I'm...going for a walk. To sort myself out. Please...watch over Syrlya for me, where I cannot.

[ A week feels like an agonizingly long time.

In the meanwhile, he'll find his confidence again. He'll try to bury his doubts, tear them from him person and scatter them to the earth, use them as fertilizer for his plants as he tends to the earth. And hopefully, too, for a relationship that he has long been dreaming of.

And so, with a slight nod in parting, he turns towards the beach. If there's anything that will help reassure him, it's the sound of the waves. ]