He looked over to her at her question politely declining the water bottle for now. He watched her for a moment before kneeling and taking the ball. As he did so his eyes left hers, but he did not bear his neck to her, instead turning slightly to take the ball. He stood back up before sending the ball skipping down the wet sand for Freddie. It was not a hard throw, keeping the dog well within sight.<br/><em><br/>It could be, or it could be Samhildánach, the skilled in many arts.</em><br/><br/>His voice was calm, it was not a boast, but he was quietly impressed that she knew the name. At the same time, all names have meanings, and he wondered how much she really knew about that. As she smiled and spoke he chuckled, until her hand gave him the tap on the rear. The woman had no fear, or she knew herself, and he liked the combination. As she ran to the surf he took a moment to look at her go, her form as it moved, the way she held the board. He looked to Enach laying on the ground, waiting for Freddie to return with his prize.<br/><br/><em>I will be back, I promise to be nice.</em><br/><br/>With that he followed Peggerty, hitting the surf and getting knee deep before casting the board atop the water. In one motion, made fluid and smooth by years of practice, he was down and atop the board laying prone. His arms started to paddle, strong pulls that did not seem hindered by the ever rising waves. The sounds of the surf, the salt in the air and the sun on his face made the earlier problems go away for just a moment. The company, her attitude as well as her looks, just made the day better.