Home...is both a physical place and a set of feelings. Home is a relationship between materiality and imaginative processes, in which physical location and materiality and feelings and ideas are united and influence each other, rather than being separate and distinct. For Thomas his new home was Whitby, more precisely the Harbor, where he spent much of his time since that was where the company he will inherit from his late father was located. It had only been a few weeks since he arrived in that town bringing with him his luggage and two women, his mother and sister to be precise.

But he was still getting used to it, so much so that not even during the breaks he took from work he could leave the Harbor. It was intriguing to see several ships come and go, all having some different story, and Thomas loved stories, he always had since he was a little boy. His mother always said that he possessed his father's sense of adventure. And from that day on, that's where Thomas promised to take her on every trip and adventure she took.

Every time he passed the doors of the place where he worked, he would just take a few steps and go to the edge. The view was something fascinating but that was not what Dwyer liked, he would remove his hat and rest it on his chest. His eyes would close instinctively and he would just stand there feeling the wind whipping against his face and hair fluttering, and at a glance he would hear the sound of the sea, in contrast to the work of the seamen. Thomas once wished he could be like them, but he had too many responsibilities and thought that until the end of his life he wanted to travel the world, to know and explore everything that living could offer him.

Home was a place that Iris no longer knew, perhaps now a figment of her dreams. She had left the Appleton farm after having been accused by the missus of being with her husband. It wasn't true. Now her place of rest was a small room in a boarding house. She found herself wandering aimlessly as she thought about what she could do now. It was hard to go from being a wife to a wetnurse and now just a widow on her way through an interesting journey to finding herself after not knowing just who she was as a person.

Now she found herself staring off as she meandered, not sure where she was going or when she would get there...

Thomas opened his eyes after a while of contemplation, and found himself staring at the sea in front of him with a blurry view due to having kept his eyes closed for so long. A glance of the eye however caught the man's attention.

Subtly his head turned and he saw a view that would leave him even more dazzled than watching the sea and the ships, a view relatively shorter than him - he had always been treated as a stranger because of his height but never minded that, it was interesting to see the world in another way - with red hair that looked like an ember.

He cleared his throat "Do you like the view?" He asked trying to keep his tone of voice calm and welcoming "The sea is beautiful, no?" He said without taking his eyes off the woman and who could now see the joviality in a tired face. "They say they are a part of us and somehow they always call us to join them, well, that's what my mother used to tell me." And he allowed himself to give a polite smile.

The view? A male voice had interrupted her thoughts and she focused suddenly on the sea before her, glad she hadn't walked off the end of the dock. "Oh. Yes... It's lovely," she said softly and before turning her gaze upon the man in question. Blue eyes fixed on his bearded face and she froze for a moment. She had such a guarded air about her that it was a wonder he was as close to her as he was. Her mouth turned upward some because he was smiling. It was hard not to see that the smile she gave didn't reach her eyes as much as his did. She said, "I am afraid I was woolgathering and almost fell in," she chuckled.

Her eyes returned to the sea and she took in a deep and calming breath. She had to remind herself that not everyone was bad, that not everyone was out to be monsters. He didn't seem like one, anyway. Her gaze returned to his face and she murmured, "Thank you for distracting me from my thoughts enough to rescue my gown from the brine."

Thomas was impressed by the young woman, an impression that made it hard for him to think of in words to say.

 Lovely....really. That was all he thought at that moment staring at the smile and began to wonder if he wasn't making an awkward move, "That wouldn't be a problem, seems like a good time for a shower." He smiled looking away.

He was silent but didn't find it bothersome and amidst all the noise he could notice the soft sound of her long breath, he began to wonder if he had bored her in some way. But as he listened to what she was saying he realized that everything sounded fine.

"No need, I believe many would do the same." Said with a light nod "By the way, where are my manners. You may call me Thomas, possibly you've never heard of me but my father's little fame haunts me. I am delighted to meet you."

"I am Iris Carpenter," she murmured in reply, her eyes turning back toward him as he spoke to her. She gave a shy smile. "It is lovely to meet you, Thomas." There was definitely a return spark from her, for she caught herself hazing for a little longer than polite and then she started to retreat into the shell that she'd built around herself since her marriage to a man who she regretted crossing paths with.

The young widow moved to sit at the edge of the dock then, glancing up toward him. She said despite the fear she felt, "You are more than welcome to join me." It felt bold to say so, but she had to start somewhere. She could not keep living in fear that she'd meet and marry another awful man like her late husband. She had to remind herself that not everyone was out to get her. "If you'd like, that is," she offered.

"You sure made a good choice of name, Iris is very pretty," all he did was observe, somehow he enjoyed watching the young woman next to him as if something about her was intriguing. 

Thomas had no further interest in her however, although he found her attractive, she just had an intriguing fascination like that of a journalist curious about a news or that of an explorer discovering a ruin, it was more a fascination to understand.and not a fascination to have. He noticed her movement and thought twice if he would follow, but upon noticing the invitation he might feel comfortable to sit next to her. 

"Excuse me." And so he did, resting his hat on his own thigh. Her gaze alternated between the two beautiful views that possessed, "What made you stay here? Sorry, I didn't formulate my question right. People have come and gone from Whitby since I arrived and I've always heard the stories, like jobs, vacations, romance, new opportunities. ....Each one has their reasons and what would be yours? If it's comfortable to say."