She spoke to him, replied in their language, a language that others would maybe think ugly. To him, though, it was beautiful, after years of searching for her on shore, after years of having to deal with harsh Russian and only a smattering of slightly less ugly English. Eric breathed in the scent and feel of her, keeping her body against his with strong arms, burying his face in her hair as she spoke. He frowned at the thought of a man keeping her captive but was pleased to hear that her captor had been killed.
"It's okay." He soothed her, still in their language, falling back into it so easily. "I found you. You don't have to be alone anymore." And he could take her home, if she wanted to go back. He knew how to find it, kind of, if he made his way back to the place where he had come ashore himself.
"I came ashore here, in Russia." He told her, not letting go of her, not loosening his hold. "After diving back down to search for you in the deep. I couldn't find you, though, so I knew I had to come to land to look. I did look, I did, but then I needed money for food, so I tried to work. Then, I smelled salt water and came here. I'm a lagoon performer." He pressed a kiss to her cheek. "We can swim together again."