the compass lies. joining

[HEARTEYES]

[div style="width: 45%; margin: auto; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11px; line-height: 110%; text-align: justify"]Clancy feels relief flood through his veins at the sight of another cat, no matter how unusual her appearance was. Her voice is swamp green, and he's so surprised by the color that he almost misses her words. No one had a green voice, not in Dema, not even the Banditos. The tabby studies the girl for a moment, taking in the soft green of her fur, the croak in her voice. They had warned Clancy that the people he met outside of Dema would be like no one he had ever met, but this was beyond his expectations. He tries to concentrate on what Tsuyu is saying, but now that he has finally stopped moving, the bruise purple soreness in his limbs fills his veins with exhaustion. He's silent for a moment, amber eyes catching the form of more animals approaching him.

• "What did you say this place was called? Snowbound?"
  

He questions, breaking his own silence. Was this where he was supposed to be? No one had said the name of the fugitive camp. His attention goes to the kitsune standing beside Tsuyu, her confusion sending a wave of dread through him, pink like the flesh of smeared palms, the flash of gums in a sharp smile. She didn't know who the Banditos were. He shouldn't have been as surprised as he was - barely anyone inside of Dema knew who the Banditos were. This group was connected to the rebel group, though, weren't they? Maybe not. No one is supposed to know. If they know, the bishops know. The Banditos were an extremely secretive group, and they had to be. Clancy could not start doubting them now.

He takes in a slow breath, watching the teal of Gwen's voice fade into the air when her sentence stopped. Teal, not stone grey, not the cold and hopeless voices of the citizens of Dema, not the bloody red of his own voice. Maybe this was the correct place to be. The people here had voices like he had never heard, or, well - seen. Clancy dips his head in greeting to the girl, careful not to show much of his throat. If this wasn't the right place, he didn't want to risk being Smeared. He couldn't be dragged back to that hellhole just yet. He had just escaped.

• "Hello. Sorry about - about the confusion over the Banditos. They were the group I came from."
  

He meows, cringing as he says it out-loud. He was not used to speaking about the rebellion so openly. Really, he was not used to speaking about anything openly. The bishops only liked to hear what they wanted to hear. When he turns to see Atbash's displeased expression, he freezes, eyes widening a fraction. He had done something wrong, they were going to tell the bishops, they were going to kill him - He snaps out of it when he hears the Hailcaller's voice, orange a shade so close to the flowers outside of the walls of Dema that it felt like he was looking into a field of them. He sucks in a breath, stunned by the contrast of Atbash's voice and her body language. She was welcoming him to her home, though, and that was enough. She seemed to be an important person, too, by the way that she had introduced herself by her title.

• "Atbash. Hailcaller. What is that?"
  

Clancy has to physically stop himself from apologizing to the molly. He wasn't aware of what he had done wrong, didn't have the concept of intruding, but - he knew that he had done something wrong. At the sight of Izuku, his eyes widen, taken by surprise at the appearance of the dragon. The bishops might seem like the hounds of hell, but they were nothing but a bunch of old wolves - seeing a creature out of a fictional book was truly astonishing. He takes a moment to listen to the male's voice, surprised by the soft emerald green of it. Two greens, an orange, and a blue. This town certainly held warm individuals. He chances a smile at the Frosthealer, though it seems a bit wobbly.

• "Hello, Izuku. What's a Frosthealer? Is it like a doctor? And, um, yes. I would like some - hot chocolate."
  

The words tasted unfamiliar on his tongue. Clancy never got to request anything, didn't get to question the positions of the bishops, or their decisions. Testing out his freedom here felt like walking on new legs. When was the last time he had some hot chocolate? He couldn't remember. He couldn't seem to remember much these days.