when I pretend everything is what I want it to be

I look exactly like what you had always wanted to see

The Thief had expected that, after some time, he might grow accustomed to Caneo’s mannerisms; that he might understand and even anticipate his concerns, what questions he might ask. He was caught off guard again. Roland did not expect the boy of so few words to make such blatant inquiries, nor could he figure out why. Was he simply curious, searching for a road map, a blue print to follow as he carved his own way through the world? Did he look to use Roland as an example, an idea of what not to do? Did he care for the Thief, or was this just the inquisitive nature of children at work behind every query? The Thief’s gaze roamed across the wet sand, followed the path of waves trailing over it as if in a rhythmic dance, and frowned as he watched it. He could neither confirm nor deny the inference, though he would very much have liked to insist he was fine. “I’m not sure,” he replied simply, quietly, and if Caneo chose not to hear the confession, it could easily have been excused as the rush of an ocean breeze across the shoreline. Regardless, the conversation was dropped once their party of two became three.

She was a strange creature. The Thief had not been an avid explorer in his lifetime, and she was decidedly different from anything he had come across, or heard of. He watched, stubbornly hiding his curiousity as the creature folded her limbs and sank onto the damp sand, bending in a peculiar way so she could stretch her forelimbs out behind her. Her tone was brusque, direct, and Roland was captivated as she conversed with them and muttered briefly of curses. Before he had a chance to inquire, she spoke again, and at first he could not seem to comprehend the words that were directed towards them. The unfamiliar syllables were punctuated with a courteous bow- at least, the Thief assumed that was what she was attempting, though she used the whole of her upper body to stoop, whereas Roland was accustomed to merely curving his neck. After a moment of silence, he dared to suppose that the proffered words, seemingly from a different language, must be her name. Cautiously, he replied with, “Roland, Thief,” his title slipping out upon reflex, though no doubt she wouldn’t know quite what to make of it.

From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the silver shift of Caneo drawing up alongside him, but Roland’s attention did not stray from the creature. The peculiar sound of her voice broke through the whisper of waves; a question, this time. The Thief pursed his lips before an inarticulate noise of deliberation could escape, tilting his weight onto his hip as he turned to contemplate the shoreline and the dark pattern of trees beyond it. Caneo spoke up before he could answer, offering the forest at their back, and Roland nodded in agreement. He thought briefly of the sanctuary underground, but he could not consider sending another into its dank and molding depths, knowing how it felt to be smothered beneath the earth until each day blended seamlessly into the next. “Why not return to the sea?” He asked once Caneo had spoken. “Is it not your home?”

(Sorry for the wait <3)