[ He has done his best to frequent every surge of new arrivals; to search for familiar faces that he does not wish to see. He goes, and he is relieved when he does not find his friends among the washed up. He had missed the arrivals to Rota- but of course, none of them could have predicted that they would wash up to somewhere new, unfamiliar. Enjolras had promised himself to be far more prepared, this time, and made his usual journey to Vandare, with arrangements made to reach Rota if news comes that they are there, instead.

But things seemed to have fallen back to normal, and Enjolras was not sure whether he felt it was a relief, or disappointment when they washed up in Vandare again. Still, he went. It was only right, after all. These people deserved information; deserved to know that despite the horrors in store for them, there were places where they might yet find support.

He sees Joly, before Joly sees him. For the briefest second his heart sores- and then the next, it plummets to the floor. Leaves his chest feeling tight, constricted and upset. Joly did not deserve this place... none of them did. But of course, he loved his friends. He wouldn't simply leave the other to his own devices. ]

Joly. [ He interrupted the other waving down another- stepped into the other's sight... fearsome wings and horns and all. ] A fishy situation... well, that is one way of looking upon it. Fishier still for those who grow gills themselves, I imagine. I know enough of them now.

[ Enjolras, you should not be allowed to attempt to make jokes. ]