She wasn't sure what exactly drove her to follow that retreating figure towards the tumultuous ocean, some mixture of boredom with her undeniable curiosity mixed in for good measure. What she cannot deny however is that she is drawn to him and the reasons can be damned for all that she cares though, tired of being shut up in her apartment day after day. All the bars she typically frequented when she needed a distraction had been closed due to the prospective pandemic and Carolina was finding she was decidedly not a homebody. She missed the atmosphere of her job, the liveliness. Tetradore had promised they would rebuild in whatever sense that entailed, but the question of when still lingered in her mind. For a moment however she allowed herself to be caught up in the charged atmosphere of the beach as she sets foot on the cool sand. There is something primal about the calm that settles in the air before the storm breaks, as if the world is holding its breath for what is to come and she revels in it.

It is not long however before she pulls her gaze from the turbulent sea and sky and back to the original focus of her attention. The recognition that alights on his face is a mirror of her own it seems as he calls her name in cool response to her greeting, and that is all that it takes to make any effort she had expended well worth it. Still the smile that follows her comment about his defiant view of the "safer at home" order most of the city had adopted didn't hurt either. Her smile falters slightly however as his words and gaze turn toward the empty space on the horizon that the large ship typically filled. For a moment her brows knitted together slightly as her hazel eyes followed his. "I'm not entirely sure, honestly. It sank." She finishes rather lamely stating what is rather obvious. How many nights had she spent wondering what exactly had transpired to cause the Ark's demise? While she highly doubted the "shower sharks" Tobias had so aptly blamed, the less than ethical establishment had no shortage of places to look for placing the blame she was sure.

While it hadn't been a home for her in the traditional sense, she felt its loss just as keenly. Tetra had taken a risk hiring her on Raven's word and it had paved the way for a new life upon her return to the city. Her new life had been built in the metal interior of the ship and it was just gone. Her blue-green eyes turn back to him offering a wry smile across her pink lips. "Maybe it was all of those unpaid tickets." Sarcasm laced her words, Tetradore's reaction to the manilla envelope she had handed him after their last meeting something that still amused her. It had also been illuminating as to what affiliations Alistair had, his clipped words about 'fucking hunters' rather unforgettable. Still she did not hold it against the artist, not until he gave her reason to. Some people weren't responsible for who they are. Happy to turn her thoughts away from all of that she instead inquires about how long he had lived in the West himself. "Small world." She murmurs softly in response a smile curling around those words, amazed that he had lived in the same complex for nearly the same amount of time. Then again it wasn't like they ran in the same circles and the leopards more nocturnal tendencies meant the majority of the world slept when she didn't. "I'm in apartment 305." Perhaps she shouldn't tell a veritable stranger her the exact location of her home, but if he knew they lived in the same building finding out which apartment was hers wouldn't be hard. If he cared to, that is.

She could sense his trepidation however at her next question though she had expected no less. The southern woman was distinctly lacking when it came to artistic talent, a bane to her mother's existance in the days when that woman had high hopes for her daughters position in the world; though why status was defined by drawing patterns or sewing was beyond her. He seemed to weigh her request in his mind and she allowed him all the time he needed with practiced patience, one hand resting lightly on her hip until he agreed... albeit tentatively. He held out that precious book to her and she took it, running her fingers lightly over the edge of the page reverently. Her blue-green eyes roved that textured paper, tracing the lines which had so deftly captured the wild seascape with more than a little awe. Even though she could not draw her way out of a paper bag she could appreciate the work of those who could. Turning lightly on her feet she didn't take her eyes off the page as she lowered herself to sit next to Alistair, her shoulder nearly brushing his. The book she cradled against her legs carefully, using a hand to swipe the soft waves of her hair behind her ear before she looks back over at him. "I don't know if you sell your work, or for how much, but if you ever sell this will you let me know?" The imagery of the crashing waves and dark tumbling clouds resonated within her just as it had when she was standing out on the sand moments before, how realistic his reproduction of them was! Turning back to his sketchbook she thumbed through the myriad of drawings their subject matter so varied she was quickly becoming convinced there was likely nothing he could not draw. She stopped on a page with fluid lines and incredible detail, lost in the attention he had paid it. "What's this?" Her voice was quiet, laced with the interest she so clearly felt. After all, you know what they said about that curious cat in the end satisfaction brought him back.