[ A mess, indeed. The ends of snow-white hair have been dirtied with sand, some locks gone limp with sweat, and others curled, tousled by the coastal winds as the King had taken to flight, and surely, it will be a rather large (and rather bothersome) effort to restore the great mane to its former glory, but even so...

The day had been worthwhile, hadn't it? All the more so now that Tieria has joined him upon the sand with heels cast aside, shoulders sloped in relief, a single, notable word failing to pass between them.

(And Sion's smile is a gentle one because of it.) ]

Ah? What is it that I found? [ Not fulfillment, perhaps, but... ] ...fun, or some approximation thereof. I have not participated in an exercise such as this one since my time at my country's military academy.

[ Stretching, Sion allows for silence to lapse between them, the tide pulling closer to the shoreline. ]

And you... [ His eyes fall upon Forseti, then, admiring its elegance. ] ...were impressive today, Tieria.