There were yet more levels to it all that confused Ishiah, and he suspected that such would be the case for years to come — even humans themselves did not usually acquire a steady level of calm about their lives until they were in the fifties or so, and they didn't have the extra crutch of thousands of years lived through a different mindset altogether. The fact that Lucy could draw comfort even when she seemed no less sure about what to do, when Ishiah's advice was perpetually only under consideration, was strange. It made deciding what to do difficult, aside from perhaps maintaining the status quo and leaving him feeling as though he were running in circles. The color on her face was welcome, though, a nice contrast to the pale tone her face usually took, and especially when she was experiencing any level of pain. He laid a hand momentarily on her head, gentle as his touch could be, because it seemed to be the type of reassurance that she needed, that of someone older and protective.

Rather an apt description of himself.

"You're always free to come to me if you need," Ishiah informed her seriously, marveling at the way the young woman in front of him called a fierce sort of conviction out from him on an island where he'd felt dulled at the edges otherwise. There was no manual to be read about such a relationship, but he knew that he did want to protect Lucy as best he could and drew from it a sense of purpose. "There is very little I wouldn't do in order to help you."

A random thought struck him, the peri focusing on one of the activities that generally lifted his mood whenever employed. "Have you ever been hang gliding?"