#aetherstories

The clatter of his pack falling over was preceded by a sharp, hurried curse as the sounds of shouting grew ever closer and not for the first time, the white furred feline cursed the absence of sight on his right side.

He should have put the pack on his left. Should have known better. But in the sudden haste to get packed up at short notice, he'd scrambled to shove his few belongings into it without thinking about its placement.

The tent was secured but everything else had tumbled out - food, medical supplies, miscellaneous trinkets that accumulated along the way, they were scattered across the floor and he desperately tried to shove them back into his pack, forgoing any kind of order or care.

Too late though.

The voices were loud, expletive-laden as they laid eyes on him and they were almost upon him.

Yanking probably more harshly on the strings of his pack to close it, leaving what belongings were scattered on the floor as the decision bore down upon him.

His skin crawled as Griever's power hummed beneath the surface, waiting to be called upon but...

it must've been serious, for an ascian to reveal themself in such a manner. where could they have possibly popped up - amh araeng, mayhaps, but alisaie was currently no where near the settlement. that left her, the sand, and a few sin eaters she managed to strike down. unfortunately they'd struck back first, the newest gashes on her arm immediately stinging.

she'd almost stumbled into them. of course they were on the first, alisaie remarked to herself. and again, this time more urgently, why here ? ' you have remarkable timing. ' the red mage nodded her approval, watching him bandage her arm with little interest. in truth the sight of her own blood bothered her. whether this body was real or not, it could perish and die.

Sneaking out on a midnight walk to have some time alone with his thoughts felt like it would be a good idea at the time. But now that he had gotten himself lost in the winding, narrow streets of the Brume, surely a long way from the little orphanage he called home, Morganaux was beginning to sorely regret his decision.

they wait until the two of them are far away enough that nobody could hear them and then quickly grab his arm, blue eyes intensely staring up "emmerololth what are you doing..."

It's not a good strategy, he very much could kill her, but Laurel is nothing if not firmly confident in 'well, I'll figure it out if things get nasty'. She leans close, frown set, debating if she wants to try and headbutt him. Maybe it'd make the stupid mask fall off. (She's curious, just a little. Plus, it'd be a good way to annoy him.)

White brows knitted and one ear tilted as he folded his arms, trying to resist the urge to confess that more often than not, he didn't fully understand the situation he was in.

Instead he canted his head and gestured towards his fellow feline in invitation.