BORING BY THE SEA ☆ visitor for trygve

[michael t.]

( obviously set after Roan's visit lmao )

Michael wasn't too keen on the Pitt, if he was being honest. He had once been a shortlived member of the group after he had escaped from The Lost, but that had been a manner of necessity, more than choice. He knew that he was taking a risk in returning after what he had done, but it felt necessary. After all, it was Trygve's birthday, and the fugitive wasn't about to let the nephew who was more like a son to him spend the day alone and empty pawed. Besides, as far as he knew, nobody had figured out it was he that had once brought trouble to the Pitt's doorstep – and unbeknownst to him, it was unlikely anybody ever would, considering his victim from Tanglewood had died recently. Despite all of this, the thief was still trying to be extraordinarily careful as he stepped up to the Pittian border, his head still spinning a little. His concussion from the meteor strike had mostly healed, but he still wasn't yet in top shape, something he was constantly reminded of. Not to mention the fact that the Pitt's desert was just as unbearably hot as he remember, and his thick black pelt was threatening to drag him into heat stroke.

None of this was enough to stop the bobcat in his mission, however. Hell, he had even gone through the effort of dressing himself up as usual. With his recent injuries, within the Typhoon he hadn't been making an effort to put on any of his jewelry or pull on his shades, mainly because it just didn't feel worth it. He wanted to put Ry's mind at ease with this visit, which meant returning to his former self, even if it was only for a little while. So, he had pulled on all of his various bits of jewelry, including his necklace and rings and everything else, and had then put on his aviators, hiding his mismatched eyes from the world. Now, the short male found himself standing just over the Pitt's border, all dresses up with nowhere to go as he struggled valiantly against both his concussion and heatstroke. In addition to all his jewelry, he also had a pouch wrapped snugly around his waist, holding what he had brought to give to Trygve as a gift. Sighing, the thief glanced around before he called out quietly, not wanting to attract too much attention, "Trygve? Ry? C'mon, kid..." He really hoped this stupid idea would work out, and he wasn't about to be attacked by somebody.

[glow=#75603C,1,000]" oh, it's a setup, no, no, we won't fall. "[/glow]

[aine.]

[align=center]

I'll come back when you call me

Sea salt.  The distinct scent brought conflict.  Wariness.  Confusion.  Fond memories of specific faces.  Family.  Friends.  Though growing faint, it was the scent that belonged to Ry.  Yet it also belonged to unfriendly faces.  Fire.  The smoke of a burnt home drifting into the sky.

The petite druid had grown less frightful of the smell of sea salt, yet it still made her uncertain when she caught it on the dry breeze.  Teeth caught the inside of her cheek.  Hesitant.  She'd been wandering after another beetle.  She could head back.  Ignore the voice.

Yet.  It was familiar, if only a little.  And it spoke her best friend's name.  Trygve.  Someone had come looking for him... Would they ask him to go home?  ... Aine felt her chest tighten.  She didn't want to say goodbye yet.  She'd only gotten used to sharing a home with him.  He was her best friend.

But they were probably worried...  He'd been gone a while...  Okay.  Okay.  Someone looking for Trygve... Probably wasn't here to cause trouble... Probably.  It'd be fine.  No violence today.  Just fine.  Besides, the pirate had probably already noticed her thanks to the dark feathers of her wings.

Slowly, she let her little hooves cross the distance.  Not too close.  Just enough to talk.  Hazel hues flickered, dancing around, refusing to make direct eye-contact as she tried to place a name to a face.  This cat was familiar.  Like... She had seen her father treat his injuries before... ... What... What's his name?  Mi... Michael?

"..." She ruffled her feathers, wincing slightly as she did so.  Her wings still ached.  "Um.. Mi-Michael?  H-hi..." He hadn't been around long, had he?  But she remembered.  The smell of iron in the air.  He was not covered in blood this time, at least.  "... It's um.  It's Aine." Obviously.  She didn't look that different she supposed but what else did she say?  He was still practically a stranger.  "Is... Is everything okay?"

The tremors had done more than shaken her up.  She'd been lucky, at least.  A little bruised and battered.  More frightened by the sudden chaos than actually hurt.  She still bore the roughest of her scrapes, but she wasn't kept down... At least, she wasn't willing to be kept down.  Sitting still didn't... Sit well with her.  Her back leg did hurt though.  So long as she kept too much weight off of it she was sure she was fine.

The thought of where the meteor actually hit made her antsy.  She had cousins within the Typhoon.  Cousins who had been kind to her before.  Were they okay?  Was Michael here with news for Trygve?  Or here to take him home?  ... Her stomach felt twisted.  If he wants to go home, then he wants to go home... It's fine.  Michael was probably just worried... Because of those tremors.  And everything would be fine.

— aine | the pitt | commodore of the crows | fae druid —

[T. ROUX]

[glow=white,1,400]BUT THEY'VE WRITTEN MY NAME IN THE STARS. I'VE DEALT WITH GREED AND SCARS !｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

Ah yes, his birthday.

He hadn't brought it up for whatever reason seeing as he didn't really think that he would get stuck within the Pitt but, it had come down to that and he had seen no point in celebrating. Normally, Trygve wasn't ever far from Aine or Gael seeing as he trusted them the most at the time though he had seen several other faces since he had gotten there. A soft snort leaving his maw and pushed away his bitter thoughts, the young jaguar was now five months old and soon enough he'd become the age of an apprentice. The thought was enough to make a faint smile form on his maw though it faltered when he realized that Aine had been walking away to the sound of a voice, his tufted ears would perk upwards and twitch in the slightest. Michael? What was he doing out here? He wasn't necessarily in the best condition either so his frown grew larger as he rose to his paws in a hasty matter wincing slightly at the feeling of fractured ribs. The other hadn't been looking well the last time he had seen him so he couldn't imagine why Michael would come here to begin with. His frown only worsened once he had seen that Aine was already there greeting his uncle who just happened to be covered in his usual jewelry.

Trygve brushed up against Aine only to narrow his pupils at the bobcat barely realizing that the other had pouch around his waist. His whiskers twitched briefly only to speak with his small frown still on his maw "Michael," His tail flicked to the sides for a moment  and he took a step forward unsure of what to expect. Was he here to take him home? Trygve didn't want to go home just yet, he wanted to stay a little longer with Aine. He took a deep breath and took a few more steps forward with a slight scowl forming on his maw "You shouldn't be all the way out here in your condition... Especially out at the desert... Since y'know the heat and dark coats don't really mingle together all that well." He furrowed his nonexistent eyebrows at his uncle though his expression softened eventually brushing his head against the other's chest only to growl with both of his eyes closed "You're gonna get a heat stroke, idiot..."[glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]

[michael t.]

Some small part of Michael really did wish he had come all this way to drag Ry home to The Typhoon. After all, he considered the kid to be basically like a son to him, not to mention how the other had become his sort of unofficial apprentice. The thought of someone in the Pitt taking over Trygve's training when he reached the right age made Michael's blood run cold, and a sense of irritation to pass over him. Sure, the bobcat was hardly the best in the world when it came to fighting, but he knew how to use strategy and how to fight dirty, and nobody else would ever be able to bring that particular brand of training to the table. However, the thief was smart enough to know that trying to convince his nephew to come home at this point would be a lost cause. The draconic male still seemed to feel a deep sense of guilt for what he had done, not to mention the disconnect between he and the rest of his family. Michael wasn't entirely sure why he was the one to be trusted with the vital information of where Trygve was staying, but he couldn't say he wasn't honored, on some level.

It took Michael a moment to recognize Aine when she first arrived on the scene, especially with his recent concussion, but she was smart enough to introduce herself, taking the awkward strain off his shoulders. Short tail twitching behind him, the thief offered an awkward little smile to her before he spoke, "Ah, hey Aine... everything's fine, I just came to check in on Trygve. Plus, uh, I've got a present for him." He gestured down to the small pouch near his waist, before his pierced ears twitched with curiosity. Wait... was Aine even aware of what day it was? Was Trygve keeping that a secret? Feeling a smirk twitch at the edges of his muzzle, he continued casually, "Figured it was only right, considering it's his birthday." Maybe Trygve had his reasons for not telling Aine, but considering how close they seemed to be... it just didn't seem right to hide. Maybe Ry would be a little pissed at him for blabbing, but he could deal with the pissed off feline any day.

When Trygve finally arrived on the scene, Michael felt the casual smirk on his muzzle evolve into a full blown smile. It was good to see the other alright, especially considering how their last encounter had gone over. He chuckled dryly when Ry began to lecture him, his chest faintly filling with a fond warmth. Trygve was starting to sound a lot like his mother around the fugitive, and Michael wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Wrapping one of his front legs around Ry's shoulders to pull him into a half hug, Michael muttered with a bit of a wheeze, "I'll be fine, alright kid? Can't just spend all day cooped up in my house with Trevor. A big of walking did me good... you're starting to sound like Rox. 'Sides, I've got something to give you..." He twisted around to grab the pouch from around his waist, thrusting it forward at Ry with a paw, "Happy birthday, Ry." Inside the pouch was... a weapon. It was an unorthodox birthday gift by most people's standards, but the carefully engraved silver blade inside had seemed like a natural gift from Michael to Ry. The engraving along the blade was that of a fancy draconic pattern, and it had instantly leaped out at Michael when he had seen it with one of the traveling vendors.

[glow=#75603C,1,000]" oh, it's a setup, no, no, we won't fall. "[/glow]