BURIAL - aine

[ABATHUR .]

The Pitt, was, as it turned out, not as nice as he had thought at the beginning.

The main indicators were the scent of blood lingering in half the places in the clan - which either everyone was accustomed to, or his nose was just extraordinarily sensitive - and the animals with chains around them. He never exactly had an education in morality (in fact, he was only ever really educated when he decided to learn on his own), but something about seeing such dominion over another person disturbed him, and the scent of blood made his stomach curl into itself, practically doing flips inside of him. This place wasn't right, somehow. But he couldn't fix it, as far as he knew, and he didn't have anywhere else to go. Maybe he was just being a baby, he thought to himself on his first day of living here, watching people mill about without a care for the seeming horrors of this place.

So, he resolved, he would ignore the gut feeling that told him to leave here before it was too late, and instead try to enjoy himself. Somehow.

The first step was to take himself on a tour, which, as he strolled about the temple grounds, he realized nobody really cared that he did. Nobody made any attempts to stop him, at least, or shove him back into his quarters (which he didn't have yet). Frankly, he didn't exactly want to do much other than stay in his bed in the medical center they holed him up inside, but his curiosity for things other than medical in nature won over his want to stay in the strangely sterile place, the place that still held a lingering scent of blood. Like something poorly wiped off a surface, leaving behind a stain, a mere remnant of whatever dark happenings took place.

The first place he happened upon was the central plaza, which, frankly, didn't interest him.

Stop number two was the one that truly caught his attention, making him stall and want to sit down, perhaps even lie down, and sleep for a long, long time - he had missed a lot of sleep out of fear that he might still die in the midst of it, when he had just been saved. The cave system utterly awed him, for some reason he couldn't put his paw on. It wasn't exactly beautiful, just stone and relative darkness, cramped even compared to the canopied depths of the jungle that lurked above. It wasn't awe inspiring necessarily, no, but it was cold, a departure from the humidity of the forest, and it mostly lacked the metallic scent of that putrid red fluid. Plus, caves were great for hiding in, as he so often felt like doing.

As he began to walk again, away from the entrance to the system, he began to wonder about what sort of treasures hid within. Shiny jewels, perhaps, emeralds and sapphires the color of his eyes - or perhaps creatures few had seen, great insects. He could not wait to find out.

tags - "speech"

[aine.]

[align=center]— aine | the pitt | fae druid —

Although much time had passed since Aine, and her father, were considered 'new' to the Pitt, the petite vixen wandered often.  With bright, curious eyes, sometimes green or brown or gold in hue, the child ran about with the intent of learning about every nook and cranny she found.  An avid adventurer, which she currently fashioned herself, must know their home turf well before discovering new.  Not to mention, children ought to know the best places to play.

Only with her best friend a prisoner of sorts, and her brother an imaginary companion, Aine explored more often than she played.  The Pitt's camp possessed immense opportunities for adventure.  The temples, especially, felt enigmatic and apprehensive to wander through.  Even the Event Temple, where she dutifully obeyed her father's instructions to regularly update and care for the herbal stores, felt ominous at times, when she padded through the corridors alone.

Her patient seemed to have disappeared from the temple.  Understandably; her attention span rarely permitted too much time within the confines of the building.  Having checked on her garden as well, Aine found herself wandering about.  Only she grew uneasy near the plaza, the mass of bodies and overlapping voices made her chest flutter and her ears flick back.

On little black paws, the fox turned away, glancing back once, for the unseen figure of her brother.  Ever since Argus dragged in her pirate friend, Aine felt repelled by the camp's center, the taste of metal still on her tongue.  She considered calling Ikaia, to test their strange link in that way, but spotted another, darker figure.

He was walking away from one of the tunnel entrances.  Ever accustomed to the grass beneath her paws and wind brushing through her fur, the concept of the dark, underground made her teeth catch on her cheek.  Curiosity and unease wrestled diligently over the idea.

"Salut, Abathur," the fox called softly, padding forward with a shy smile.  "… Are you exploring?"

— I'll come back when you call me —