10-18-2019, 10:30 AM
A fourth appeared, and the pattern continued. If everybody that lived here was as fascinating as those that saved him... well, he might not be able to help himself from his awfully studious habits, should he stay there.
He had never seen someone so large as the beast before him, nor something with so many eyes, with so deep a voice. Fear spiked in his mind, but it was deeply overshadowed by the pure awe he felt, striking him to his heart. The creature that carried him was fascinating, yes, but this new one was something so alien, so otherworldly, that it would have left him breathless, had he any breaths in the first place. It was something Above, he felt, this reptilian creature in a purely different category - and this Above thing was offering him water, like an angel. Perhaps that was what it was - an angel, a being of the heavens. Abathur did so enjoy the idea of being special enough to warrant a deific creature, even as he told himself that it was impossible.
Assuming the gat he sat upon would allow him, the kit would thirstily gulp from the proffered canteen, letting the feeling of water soothe him at last, drinking as much as he could in a few gulps and pulling away only when he felt he could talk - or rather, should talk. He was oh so curious as to why these people were helping him, after all, though primarily, he just had to thank them.
"Thank you," he rasped, sounding more an aged old man than a small child. His eyes, now fully open, flicked from the Above-being, to the gat carrying him, to the one who joined him, and finally to Aine, who likely saved him from death altogether. Now that he wasn't exclusively trying to stay conscious, one could fully see his eyes - they were a bright green, lacking sclera and pupils, looking more insectoid than mammal. It was a bizarre and off-putting feature for most, and he often got rude stares or comments, but he could hardly think about hiding them when there was so much here to see. "Where... am I?" he asked, innocent despite the quality of his voice, which held a small tremor within it. Of fear, perhaps, or just exhaustion. Whatever it was, it indicated that he was still out of sorts.
A drink never solved all one's problems, unfortunately.
He had never seen someone so large as the beast before him, nor something with so many eyes, with so deep a voice. Fear spiked in his mind, but it was deeply overshadowed by the pure awe he felt, striking him to his heart. The creature that carried him was fascinating, yes, but this new one was something so alien, so otherworldly, that it would have left him breathless, had he any breaths in the first place. It was something Above, he felt, this reptilian creature in a purely different category - and this Above thing was offering him water, like an angel. Perhaps that was what it was - an angel, a being of the heavens. Abathur did so enjoy the idea of being special enough to warrant a deific creature, even as he told himself that it was impossible.
Assuming the gat he sat upon would allow him, the kit would thirstily gulp from the proffered canteen, letting the feeling of water soothe him at last, drinking as much as he could in a few gulps and pulling away only when he felt he could talk - or rather, should talk. He was oh so curious as to why these people were helping him, after all, though primarily, he just had to thank them.
"Thank you," he rasped, sounding more an aged old man than a small child. His eyes, now fully open, flicked from the Above-being, to the gat carrying him, to the one who joined him, and finally to Aine, who likely saved him from death altogether. Now that he wasn't exclusively trying to stay conscious, one could fully see his eyes - they were a bright green, lacking sclera and pupils, looking more insectoid than mammal. It was a bizarre and off-putting feature for most, and he often got rude stares or comments, but he could hardly think about hiding them when there was so much here to see. "Where... am I?" he asked, innocent despite the quality of his voice, which held a small tremor within it. Of fear, perhaps, or just exhaustion. Whatever it was, it indicated that he was still out of sorts.
A drink never solved all one's problems, unfortunately.
tags - "speech"