This place wasn't like much of anywhere Ganymede had ever lived, save for the things that every place had in common: people, shops, the bustle of the market and the quietness of the lonely corners and spaces. He wasn't all that shocked nor all that upset to find that the islands floated, nor that there seemed to be no way off them, because he'd lived with that before.

At least no one was proving themselves as personally and relentlessly invasive as he'd half-expected.

With his hair braided and up in a knot at his nape, he wandered aimlessly around Aerilon and Imber, as always finding himself less at home but far, far more comfortable near water than mountains. In his ankle-length skirt and shirt it was easy to mistake him for a girl from the back before hearing him speak.