quiet houses, lit up by candlelight
Atlas knew there were several reactions people could cycle through when surprised, and a quick jump to combat was frequently one of them. So when the night-hued mare did not attack him, he breathed a sigh of relief he did not realize he had been holding. She takes him in with no regard for hiding her gaze. He tilts his head curiously in response, wondering what she could be looking at. In truth, he had spent too much time by himself and was unused to company, though he can hardly imagine he is at all interesting compared to the dark-tree room they found themselves in, particularly covered in days worth of travel muck and smelling as sweet as swamp cabbage.
"Oh, certainly not," he admitted, in good humor. He was devoid of magic, himself-- and he did not mind it whatsoever. Atlas enjoyed the boredom of being... well, perhaps standard-issue was a good term to call it. His homeland had been more a place of science and discovery than any spellcraft. He-- or, Azimal, he should say-- would surely have been fine. Lauded, honored. But there were no magical bloodlines in Zukai, and those rumored to possess the skill had been persecuted and destroyed, at best; at worst, branded and sold into slavery. Too many times, he had seen mere whispers of magic destroy lives.
The adjustment to magical culture on Novus had been a large one, to say the least. He found himself more than capable of admiring from afar, as he did now with this stranger's wings as she came up beside him. Surely they were powerful tools, but now she pinned them against herself, tension quivering through her primaries. "I think if I knew anywhere close to half of it, life would be quite boring." He offered a polite smile as they proceeded on their strange, treetop tour.
Her question caught him off guard, and he hummed a note in his throat. "Officially, I think, I am, ah, Deluminian? Is that the correct term?" he murmured, sniffing a nearby shelf that was bare save for a thick covering of dust and pollen. It smelled of wood and sap, and the cloying scent took his mind off the fact he still felt like a stranger in this land. "But I have always been prone to wandering. Recently, I have been exploring Terrastella in hopes of mapping its seasonal stars."
He realizes midway through his musings that his new companion had found something of interest. He pauses politely behind her, waiting for his chance to peruse the discovery. He listens when she speaks, though his brow furrows. "Ah, the... hospital? Forgive me, but I am unfamiliar with the local lore here. Is that supposed to be... special?" His voice trails off as he follows her gaze to a strange creature. It is watching them with gentle intent.
"No, no trouble," he adds, hastily. "In all honesty, I was just looking for a better place to see the sky. The swampy lowlands make for a skewed perspective, and observation is often hindered by fog." His rambling is fueled by his nerves; he had not realized he had stumbled onto someplace that was not only curious but... tended, revered. But now that he was here, he wanted to learn more-- why had the mare called it the hospital instead of just a hospital. Terrastella was a land known for the healing arts... certainly, there was more than one place for the infirm?
"Oh, certainly not," he admitted, in good humor. He was devoid of magic, himself-- and he did not mind it whatsoever. Atlas enjoyed the boredom of being... well, perhaps standard-issue was a good term to call it. His homeland had been more a place of science and discovery than any spellcraft. He-- or, Azimal, he should say-- would surely have been fine. Lauded, honored. But there were no magical bloodlines in Zukai, and those rumored to possess the skill had been persecuted and destroyed, at best; at worst, branded and sold into slavery. Too many times, he had seen mere whispers of magic destroy lives.
The adjustment to magical culture on Novus had been a large one, to say the least. He found himself more than capable of admiring from afar, as he did now with this stranger's wings as she came up beside him. Surely they were powerful tools, but now she pinned them against herself, tension quivering through her primaries. "I think if I knew anywhere close to half of it, life would be quite boring." He offered a polite smile as they proceeded on their strange, treetop tour.
Her question caught him off guard, and he hummed a note in his throat. "Officially, I think, I am, ah, Deluminian? Is that the correct term?" he murmured, sniffing a nearby shelf that was bare save for a thick covering of dust and pollen. It smelled of wood and sap, and the cloying scent took his mind off the fact he still felt like a stranger in this land. "But I have always been prone to wandering. Recently, I have been exploring Terrastella in hopes of mapping its seasonal stars."
He realizes midway through his musings that his new companion had found something of interest. He pauses politely behind her, waiting for his chance to peruse the discovery. He listens when she speaks, though his brow furrows. "Ah, the... hospital? Forgive me, but I am unfamiliar with the local lore here. Is that supposed to be... special?" His voice trails off as he follows her gaze to a strange creature. It is watching them with gentle intent.
"No, no trouble," he adds, hastily. "In all honesty, I was just looking for a better place to see the sky. The swampy lowlands make for a skewed perspective, and observation is often hindered by fog." His rambling is fueled by his nerves; he had not realized he had stumbled onto someplace that was not only curious but... tended, revered. But now that he was here, he wanted to learn more-- why had the mare called it the hospital instead of just a hospital. Terrastella was a land known for the healing arts... certainly, there was more than one place for the infirm?
@MEPHISTO | 581 | BLEASE DONT HURT HIM
