He's so stoic, the one from the ocean, Ariel observes. But not uncaring, which is important. They all seem to care about finding a way to help her, and that's a relief. She's not sure they'll be able to find Eric fast enough for her to get him to fall in love with her. She hasn't really disclosed the part where she's never actually met Eric. Not really.
She looks fascinated as Dick explains that there's a difference and then she's beaming when the other boy gives her the clothes. Ariel gets to her feet, unashamed and unaware that maybe she ought to be when the towel — for drying off — drops to the sand as she rifles through the small stack trying to figure out what goes where and how to put things on.
That's so cool! I just wear seashells, usually, but I lost mine, she thinks to them, pulling out a cute little skirt and holding it up, tilting her head to look it over with interest. What's this for?
The shirts she's figured out because they all seem to be wearing them, so she pulls one of those over her head, getting her head stuck in the sleeve for a moment and flailing awkwardly, nearly falling into whoever happens to be standing the closest before she grabs onto the chair to right herself again and manages to get her head in the hole it belongs through. It's equally an awkward struggle to get her arms in the arm holes, but she manages that, too, and the shirt falls just above her knees. It must belong to one of the boys; they're taller.
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She looks fascinated as Dick explains that there's a difference and then she's beaming when the other boy gives her the clothes. Ariel gets to her feet, unashamed and unaware that maybe she ought to be when the towel — for drying off — drops to the sand as she rifles through the small stack trying to figure out what goes where and how to put things on.
That's so cool! I just wear seashells, usually, but I lost mine, she thinks to them, pulling out a cute little skirt and holding it up, tilting her head to look it over with interest. What's this for?
The shirts she's figured out because they all seem to be wearing them, so she pulls one of those over her head, getting her head stuck in the sleeve for a moment and flailing awkwardly, nearly falling into whoever happens to be standing the closest before she grabs onto the chair to right herself again and manages to get her head in the hole it belongs through. It's equally an awkward struggle to get her arms in the arm holes, but she manages that, too, and the shirt falls just above her knees. It must belong to one of the boys; they're taller.