Her thoughtfulness is not what shone through to Owen--but maybe it was his short time here, maybe it was the way he'd consumed every scrap of information left at the inn so recently. If you didn't look at things every day, if you didn't stay on your toes, maybe things did start to blur together. Maybe things seemed like they made sense, and could be bested in direct and logical ways.
Climb a wall. Sail toward the horizon. Follow the stars.
When he speaks, it's quietly, still trying to avoid anything that could be misconstrued as a fight. She needs to have these questions asked of her--if not to change her mind, then to at least highlight what else she needs to be prepared for. "I know enough about following stars to tell you these don't behave like the ones at home. This isn't your ocean from home, Moana. Even if it's an ocean at all, it's so far north, and things change. The star you choose to follow one night might be behind you the next. Are you really prepared to be alone in the dark, unsure of where you are? Can you really not understand why people might not want that for you?"
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Climb a wall. Sail toward the horizon. Follow the stars.
When he speaks, it's quietly, still trying to avoid anything that could be misconstrued as a fight. She needs to have these questions asked of her--if not to change her mind, then to at least highlight what else she needs to be prepared for. "I know enough about following stars to tell you these don't behave like the ones at home. This isn't your ocean from home, Moana. Even if it's an ocean at all, it's so far north, and things change. The star you choose to follow one night might be behind you the next. Are you really prepared to be alone in the dark, unsure of where you are? Can you really not understand why people might not want that for you?"