Marius walks slowly in her direction, trying not to rush at her. The way she folds her arms around herself, the way she responds, even, all confirm to him that it is, in fact, Eponine standing there on Darrow's shores, looking lost. His heart beats loudly in his chest, it seems to him; it nearly crawls up to his throat, clawing to get out. Even looking at her now, he can still see her so clearly in his arms, blood falling like rain from the bullet wound meant for him. His eyes widen as he fights against the tears that very much want to fill them.

He switches to French, always glad to be able to speak in his native tongue when he has the chance, as he approaches, hoping she'll recognize him.

"It's me," he says, voice quiet against the tides lapping at the shores, nearly against his feet. "It's Marius. How long have you been here on the beach?"