Newt brought Credence a hearty platter of food to quell his stomachās rumblings. It would be a soothing cup of chamomile tea, an eclectic assortment of finger sandwiches, and a delicate orange with its rind carved out into that of a blooming flower. āI do hope thereās something here that suits your fancy. If not, I can try a few different recipes to find you a suitable delight, Credence.ā
Ā Ā Ā France. Heād stayed in France hunting for a lead on his family, the people who gave him away, nearly three months before completely abandoning his self-appointed mission altogether. The one person heād befriended in the circus heād joined, a woman similarly trapped in what she was, had been surprised that heād given up his blind ambition overnight. But heād offered her no explanation beyond a vague statement that heād been hurtling toward the wrong destination, after which theyād escaped the circus together and parted ways.
Ā Ā Ā To say that Credence had been lost after setting aside his desire to know who he was and where he came from would be an understatement. But heād had good reason to, and so he left France in search of one of two faces in his memory he could recall showing him genuine kindness. He hunted Newt down because something lodged somewhere under his rib cage told him that was where he needed to be, where heād learn and move forward instead of back. He couldnāt wander the world asking questions he may never find answers to; at least, not true answers. Not answers that would fill the void as heād hoped.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āø āĀ āø
Ā Ā Ā Credence found him in Wales, the sky above obscured by a massive green beast taking flight with a thunderous roar. Overhead passed a dragon, something heād not thought could be real despite all of the other fantastical things heād seen since entering a world of magic heād been so utterly convinced he could never join. Standing at the base of a hill looking up at Newt Scamanderās smiling face cast in the creatureās shadow, Credence couldnāt help but think that some things in the world were good, and heād chosen the right person to hunt down so he could learn about the world heād become part of. He didnāt, after all, want to go back to New York - not ever again.
Ā Ā Ā Heād been instantly welcomed into the magizoologistās world without a second thought. Dizzying kindness.
Ā Ā Ā The next weeks were a whirlwind of learning about incredible creatures and quiet escapes to a place with no babbling to choke down a lingering soul-deep pain alone. Newt had provided him with a tent inside his case that was spacious, but barren all but for a couple shelves with unknown odds and ends on them, and a hay-stuffed mattress in the far corner. Seated there, he ruminated - he recalled faces, idle phrases laced with resentment for him, and a time when heād been smaller and happier if only briefly.
Ā Ā Ā Stuffed into the corner of the tent and planted firmly on the bed with a smooth stone flipping up and falling back into his palm with a soft āplapā to the rhythm of his thoughts, Credence jolted slightly when the flaps of the tent rustled and in came Newt. His hair had something bright green in it, a smudge of dirt smeared along one side of his face, and he as always had a bewildering look of kindness spread across his face. In his hands, he carried a tray and everything laid out on it made Cedenceās dark brows jump into his hairline briefly before they settled back down to pinch together.
Ā Ā Ā It all looked delicious. It did. But what had he done to deserve this random act of kindness? Mr. Scamander must want something from him. Pursing his lips, Credence sighed and sat up a little straighter than he had been.Ā āWhy?ā He questioned simply, thumb smoothing over the stone in his palm in an attempt to ground himself before some form of panic had any chance to settle into his bones.Ā āIt looks good. But you didnāt have to do this.ā
