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He’d always been an apt listener, like his father before him, gathering intellect and wisdom from wagging tongues and molten mouths – learning all he could, then snatching, clenching, clutching it tightly to his chest, to his mind, for further use and unraveling. Today’s adventures had been forthright and intriguing already; not only because of the dove with her fawn pelt, a sword for an eye, or cloak, but also due to Rein’s activity in an Outcast band. Were there many beyond the borders, not wishing to follow any particular herd, but their own rules, their own regulations? Weren’t they much like a kingdom then, accept without a true sovereign – nomadic, Gypsy formations cast apart in stones, in forests, in eaves, on grounds that didn’t belong to solely them? The concept was interesting, and he made not of it, nodding towards the boy who’d made his own stake in the world, trying to tie together those who yearned to discover, ascertain, and comprehend the world around them.
The lad’s attention was diverted back to the femme only when her vocals cast him in a diverting light - you are confident - and he smiled again, a dapper grin not quite meeting his eyes because there was truth in her speech, but falsehood as well. There had been days where his self-assurance was all he had, all he knew, all he could achieve, and other moments scattered in stumbling motions, faltering, fumbling, foolish notions scattered about in ruin and rubble. He’d lost before. He’d been nothing before. He just didn’t want to be it again. “Are you?” The boy-warrior asked in a light-hearted way, attempting to puzzle over the complexities, the rites, the reasons why she speculated about him.
Eventually, ruminations over herds dispersed (was she displeased by the notion of outcasts? He wanted to turn to the other youth and reassure him with a silly, goofy smile, with an arch to his brow, but soldiered on instead), and his ears flicked, grin sharpened into something tangible, something corporeal, something real, because the pride for his kingdom was an everlasting covenant he’d share with anyone and everything willing to listen. “I’m from the Aurora Basin, which is ruled by Deimos and Hotaru. We’re surrounded by mountains, and host a variety of other things – hot springs, a lake that never freezes, and caverns. We’re due to be holding an aurora viewing festival soon.” Erebos nodded again, composed over his remarks, ensuing the brewing invitation past his lips after. “You are welcome to join if you’d like.”
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