[She was more than understanding of the lack of smiles and laughter, actually glad to be with someone who had shared some level of her hell. She didn't owe him anything, wouldn't have to meet some expectations, and could be content in the silence that was sure to come in moments of recollection of their nightmares in Port.

Claire blushed but nodded.]

Thank you. I used to collect them, back home. My dad, Noah? He would bring them home from every trip he took. My cabin included them with it.

[Gingerly, she sat on his bed, meeting his eyes again.]

Where is home for you?

[Stories were distractions.]