when change bangs it’s fist - joining

[aine.]

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— aine | the pitt | fae druid —

The sound alerts Aine.  Loud and abrupt, ripping through the typical jungle symphony.  Her golden hues flashed from a flower she'd been tending to in her garden towards the sound.  Her ears flick back against her skull, a sharp movement in response to a sudden wariness in her chest.  Butterflies.

Fear wages an unsuccessful war against curiosity.  Gradually at first, the petite vixen begins seeking out the source, her dark colored paws soon padding across the jungle floor at a trot.  Given how well she heard it the first time, the child knew it must be close.  It was.  He?

Many fox-lengths away the girl halted, frozen in confusion.  A deer in the headlights.  What is that?  The only insects she knew of never grew nearly the size of the creature ahead.  Nor as she ever seen something burst forth from the earth, but surely from the broken surface he must've.

The smoke drifting into the air turns her stomach into uncomfortable knots.  Memories of ash and fire.  A home in flames, then again, a forest shouldering before her.  How could one simply sit, so hot smoke rose from their body?

"..." No reason not to try talking, she knew, only her tongue felt heavy, gut still turning in summersaults.  He's not on fire.  He's not on fire.  "… H-hello?"

"Dia... Dia dhuit.  Are you okay?"

"… 'm Aine... I can help... If you need any help.  Do you have a name?" He looks tired.

— I'll come back when you call me —