H e blinked, contemplating. Aramis and Emile rarely required defense - Emile was Red and volatile, while he was Green and strange. By the time they were making forays into town with any regularity they were old enough and with enough control of their Craft to be considered dangerous. Ara had only really been as Nora was when their mother and sister had been alive, and that was a long time past."There can be," he decided on. There had never been fear in his heart for the one-skinned crowd, but it cost nothing to spare Nora the suspicions shadows could bring. "Most of the island is not like us. They think we are no different than them. If they were to discover our differences," ours and mine, "we might need to defend ourselves." Anyone who had ever found out there was more to Aramis than his jewel and his caste had always reacted unfavorably, and he preferred not to put himself in a position where their removal was necessary if he was not in the mood for it. He tilted his head in what was one of his better approximations of empathy. "Some of the animals on the island can be dangerous, too. Emile and I would feel better knowing you had a way to protect yourself." Emile would insist on being with her constantly or never letting her out of his sight. Equipping her with the skills to handle a knife now would save all of them stress in the future. At least she seemed easy to acquiesce to company, even if it was unlikely to be him. A firm word to Pella and a delicately structured suggestion to Emile would be enough to lay the foundation for her, until she was ready to set off alone or balked at their hand-holding. One corner of his mouth pulled up to just - there. Humor, amusement, without exceeding calculation. Somewhat harder to do in a place he knew he didn't have to pretend in, but a skill normally well applied. Everyone, supposedly, appreciated a smile. He looked back, almost curious as to her assessment of him. Pella no longer looked at him so unabashedly, and Emile never cared to or hadn't known how. Aramis had never been truly new to him, after all. What did she see, in their clean kitchen? Shadows, or nothing at all? Her exclamation startled him from his musings, and he blinked the contemplation away. He could live with fifteen minutes in the water, maybe thirty, and satisfy her. Leave her and Emile to the ocean while he took the beach, let Pella sort herself. A… releasing day, if not necessarily a relaxing one. Watching her watch him, watching her navigate the space between what she wanted and what he was willing to give, a flash of an idea struck him, took root. Perhaps Nora could act as further mediator, a kinder peacemaker, if guided correctly. Perhaps Aramis could plant her in his stead and relax into the shadows of isolation. Nora could bring him only those situations that were absolutely urgent or family endangering. Ah, to dream. He squashed the idea back down to a seed. Maybe Nora would prove an asset in balancing the emotions of the house, perhaps not. He would need to know more of her and her abilities before he decided to trust her to assist him in any kind of mediation. A flash of promise based on a single conversation was not proof. He deliberated, gave her question due consideration. Imagined the squalling of the cats, the screaming of the monkeys. The fur and blood that would litter the leaves, the yard. The little bodies, half eaten, missing limbs, swarming ants."It is unlikely that they would find friends in each other." Aramis admitted. Likely there were instances, but he sincerely doubted that the cats that frequented their home would oblige that. They were, notoriously, assholes. "You could keep them in an enclosure, to protect them, but how cruel to keep them locked away when the trees and open air are so close?" It was a little underhanded, but Aramis didn't care. He might even concede if her arguments were sound. The responsibility of a care and maintenance of a monkey, perhaps two, would be good. At an appropriate distance from the house, of course. A serviceable anchor to their home not wrapped in the complicated knot of Emile's affections, Pella's irritation, and his own possessive indifference. "How terrible to live by the sea and never be able to reach it." Or something.