The heart /Altar making/ Of a riding man

[wormwood.]

With how busy Aurum had been as of late, he hadn't exactly noticed where Steel had decided to make her home. His attention was on other things, such as his plans for what to do about The Pitt, and his worries over his approaching children. It didn't feel as though anything was wrong, but he still found himself full of anxiety, wondering if the constant stress of being luminary was doing anything to them. With a heavy sigh of stress leaving the tigress's lungs, he paused when he heard shifting sounds nearby, signaling some kind of activity. Looking up at the porch of the nearby house, he was surprised to see Steel there, having previously marked down the place as uninhabited in his head. Wondering what the newcomer was doing, he stepped slowly up towards the other, porch stairs creaking beneath him.

Pausing as Steel turned halfway towards him, Aurum rumbled softly, "Hello there, Steel. I was just coming to check on what you were working on... I don't need any help, as far as I know. So I guess you've decided to make this place your home?" He glanced up at the previously uninhabited building, silently noting that this was where he could find her in the future. His blue gaze then moved towards the strange little bundles she was making into triangular formations, questioning, "What are those...? Not sure I've ever seen anything like them..." While he had witnessed Elsweyr's religious rituals in the past, it hadn't been like this, and he certainly didn't make things for any deities. Despite being an angel, he had never been particularly interested in devoting himself to one particular deity.