INFECTED WITH YOUR GENETICS ☆ o, joining

[icarus.]

The tabby tom listens as Aurum greets him in return, only acknowledging Safflower's arrival with a silent flick of an ear as his green gaze remains fixed on the much-larger creature. Though there's a wryness to the lion's tone as he speaks, there's a weariness, too, that suggests some truth to it. Icarus gives a dip his head. "Sorry to hear." Though his initial words were perhaps offered with a jab of humor his next are more genuine, albeit still mild. Whatever aftershocks might've been felt in the uplands were apparently subtle enough to have already been long-forgotten by the Knight. Things are peaceful here, or at least they have been lately. Icarus doesn't think he minds it. He can only hope that Aurum will find the same solace that he seeks among the wind-whipped hills. After all, Icarus doesn't know the first thing about their neighbors in any direction. The name Tanglewood sounds foreign altogether, but to be fair the tom hasn't ventured from the moors since his arrival in these lands. He's only aware of the groups the Knights have come into contact with: none, at this point, though he thinks he might have to make a trip soon, if only to fulfill his own selfish curiosity. Maybe he'll ask this stranger later when he appears less... well, tired.

Icarus nods along at Safflower's words of acceptance, sparing his own thoughtful sideward glance before beginning to turn away with a flick of his tail in a motion to follow. He can't personally think of any good reason to turn Aurum away, though admittedly Icarus has always been on more trusting by nature, and he intends to afford the man the offer of rest he'd already extended prior. "We can show you back and let you get settled in. I can give you a tour another time, if you'd like," he starts with casual warmth. Despite the suggestion, there isn't that much to give a tour of — there's the moors, the wuthering heights, more moors, the cliffs, and even more of the moors. The manor, on the other hand, can be a maze in itself. Regardless, the golden-furred tom is just excited to have another newcomer to get to know, for the estate's halls grow cold when quiet. He pauses, looks to Aurum again, and lets an easy smile fall across his maw. Where are his manners? "Oh, Icarus, by the way. Welcome to the Knights of Concord."