Darras looks away from the water, over at her. If the fish slips the line, he'll rebait the hook and cast off again. They're in close enough quarters that he could lean over and kiss the little crease between her brows. He wants to.

"I know you better'n anyone. I give you the credit I know you to deserve." He holds out his hand to her, fishing pole still gripped in the other. "It might well be a sad story. It'll be your story, still. Where you came from. Something separate from the rest of what your life's been. I think that's worth knowing."