cillian

“It wasn’t against my will... I just, didn’t get the whole story first.”

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t tried them.”

“We had good food back home.”

“That’s.. the thing. I was brought here.”

“You sound so sure.”

“I’m alright,” he reassured, never wanting to worry her. He took a few steps toward her, extending a hand hesitantly toward her. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

hearing her approach, he locked his knee -- a show that he was going to stand his ground. “there’s nothing i can do,” he explained, trying to sound strong.

“i was always told i was too serious.. losing my sight didn’t exactly help it, either.”

“She was working on nightmares.” It wasn’t clear as to why he felt the need to stick up for Melinoe in such a way. Perhaps he feared her wrath, if it came back to her that he had said something against her?  Who could know for sure. “Yeah, I’m fine. A little cold, I guess?” The wet bayou of New Orleans was unlike the more dry cool that the Underworld was. He felt sticky, and uncomfortable.

As promised, he followed some ways behind, relying on his other senses to maneuver his way over the unfamiliar terrain. “Why are we in New Orleans?” he asked. He knew that it was practically the new Greece, what with all the gods congregating and the creatures that resided there, but he meant them specifically -- him.

“Melinoë brought me,” he stammered. It was less of a ‘tattletale’ and more of a rushed explanation to who he would have to consider his adoptive mother, or alpha, in the case of centaur herds. 

“I can hear your footsteps. Just.. warn me if you have to walk over something?” His stride was longer than hers anyway, so his cautious stepping wouldn’t be much of a setback. “A salad is fine. Maybe some fruit, too?”

Hooves kicked up some dirt as he shuffled toward her. He didn’t like the idea of exploring a city he wasn’t familiar with.. with a sister he couldn’t quite count on.

“You’re taking me with you,” was all the colt said, sharp and with a soft huff.

“Where did you take me, Melinoe?  Where is this?”

the centaur was becoming quite upset. he stepped back a few times, a flight response surging through him. “i-i’m sorry,” he reiterated.

“when it’s for survival. or your pride...” despite the wording, cillian wasn’t referring to violence in particular. no, he was referring to more of a determination centric battle.