Automatically, Moana tipped her head toward the clouded over sky. Even if it had been night and clear, the stars were too different for her to navigate by. "I'm not exactly sure. In the ocean. It's always warm. The waters are soft blue and green. The sand is soft. You can sail for days without seeing another island. Our people, we used to travel that way."

Talking of home warmed her a bit, seemed to chase away the chill. She remembered being wrapped up by the ocean, being carried by it and supported.