[size=9pt]It's funny that when Moon sees Lazarus again, its while he's staring into the depths of Starpool looking for answers, just as he'd found the cane corso, weeks ago. Back then, he'd been cynical -- the only thing you'll find in the glistening surface is your own reflection -- but he gets it now. There's something about the place. And maybe it's the movies that taught him this, or maybe it's just universally known that going somewhere dramatic, poetic, like this makes you feel that bit less reckless, but he knows, now; this is where you go when you're feeling a little lost.


And Lazarus looks a little lost. Actually, he looks a little fucked. "Lazarus?" Moon calls, a frown sitting steady on his scarred face. He's not exactly tentative in his approach -- Moon never is -- but he stops a foot or two away, because he knows the canine enough to understand all he'll get is jaws wrapped around his neck if he goes any further. "You look like fucking shit." says the medic boy, already reaching for the ugly bag he's gotten used to carrying around with him. He lays it on the ground, spills out all its contents and roots through them in hopes of finding something he can offer. "I'm not gonna' touch you, okay, but I've got some stuff on me if you want it." He grabs for borage leaves and some poppy seeds, merely a guess, and pauses to wait for a response. He's not entirely sure he'll get one. He tries, anyway. "What's going on?"

[size=9pt]Sometimes, he really wishes he spoke Spanish. It's proving to be essential when interacting with Lazarus, because, most of the time, Moon hasn't a fucking clue what he's saying. In the past, it's only been slightly annoying -- probably only insults purposefully spoken in another language -- but now, what he's saying is important. It may as well be a matter of life and death, and if he's trying to tell him something important and Moon can't understand, what the hell are they going to do? Track down Gabriel and get him to play messenger? Good luck with that.

But then comes Imperia, and the day is saved. As usual. Though, Moon's ego takes a slight blow-- he frowns at her comment, picking the poppy seeds from the ground and tucking them back into his bag. It's not like he speaks Spanish; how the hell was he supposed to know what Lazarus needed? He rolls his eyes to the sky and walks to the wolf's side, shoving his shoulder against hers, gently. Leave it to Imperia to make him look like a rookie.

"You good to walk back to the Cleric's Hide?" he asks, once Imperia's question has been answered. "I'd offer to carry you, but I'm not too keen on getting any new scars."