#yazithreads

Yazi had now suddenly completely forgotten about the bloody display outside and the strange manner of royalty that was the jester with a crown. Or well, for a minute at least, as he collected a plate of fish. "What even is the difference between a king and a mayor?"

Yazi understood that this was some kind of holiday period, there were a lot of things happening that he didn’t completely understand - people in masks… kind of scary. Walking around Destarin, or walking home, he saw things that suggested some kind of collective activities. Also it was a lot, and he kept on forgetting half of it, even if people at the bar liked to tell him all about it. Technically he was from Withermore, but he wasn’t a regular citizen, at least not that he thought he was. 

His head was spinning with information about bonfires and hiding from ghosts, when he got back from his break for the after lunch-slump. The bar was quiet, though not empty. He saw Hastalik and moved his glass-cleaning duty to that part of the bar. “Hi, I came home alright that day you helped me.” Had to be said.

Yazi had no idea what was about to happen with the full moon and all of that, and also no idea why people had this bad opinion on Destarin - it seemed like any other shabby town filled with two-footers that he'd seen on his journey with his witch. He wasn't someone who judged on town harsher than another, they were all big and loud and filled with people with clothes and stores and most ridiculous rules.

Especially the rules were ridiculous, he could go on hours and hours about the rules. It was supposed to be a rule-less town or something, but he had to do all these things that he didn't want to do.

Like not try and catch cats that were clearly on the street.

As a result he was walking around with a scratch on his cheek and a frowny face. Tears pricked in his eyes from the pain he felt. He knew his witch could probably take care of his cheek, but first he needed to feel sorry for himself. Had he been a Pandok, this would've barely hurt.

He decided to talk to the first person he could find. "Are you a healer?"

Yazi disliked clothing, but it had to be worn - and thus it had to be ripped and broken as well - and so he had to wear it. He couldn’t simply run outside naked, no matter how badly he wanted to. To be rid of these layers that constricted his movements. The shirt was the least annoying, the pants and the shoes however. Oh great Swamp Creature, THE SHOES. He loathed the shoes so much that he had begged his witch for more sandals. New ones, ones that didn’t constrain his toes. 

His witch had given him a little money, not enough for shoes. Thus he’d spend it on food he’d bought from street vendors, and was currently eating it while cussing at his food with words only other Pandok would react horrified to. “Dry weeds!” he growled, as he kicked his feet, time and time again. 

Only this time, the shoe came off, sailing through the air and hitting a stranger in the back. He stared at the collision wide eyed, confused mostly that these annoying contraptions could be used as weapons.

Yazi’s mind was very much on the current state in the town, after the Election day, he did notice a difference in the people. It was an overcast day, the bar was busy but people were speaking in hushed tones. Probably about the new people being elected. Yazi was sad Abstain hadn’t won anything, but he knew some of the people who had, and thought it was interesting that people actively sought out such positions. He absentmindedly continued cleaning the glasses, and then putting them away, when he noticed someone staring at him.

“OH… oh sorry!” he almost dropped one of the glasses - as in he did but it bounced into the tub of water and was saved. “I was daydreaming, what can I get you?”

His witch had allowed him a few moments as a Pandok again, swimming deep around the docks of Destarin. Aware that people were aware, but too afraid to near him. He was big now. He’d been a tiny creature when his witch had first found him, no taller than them, one and ten years old. A child still, but in the last decade, he’d become an adult. His bulk was more massive than humans. He’d continue to grow for a long long time, and he was eager to, to reach the massive size of his father, and then beyond. Until he reached legendary heights like the great Pandok that roamed the swamps and kept others out. 

Sadly, his days in his own skin were always numbered. His witch changed him, from a Pandok to a cat, to a dog, to a bird, to a human. Depending on the situation, on what was needed from him. 

Now a human, Yazi wandered the docks, on dirty sandals with which he’d walked through the water earlier, his shirt open, showing off the scales and many scars. They hiss at upcoming traffic, getting pushed out of the way and ending up colliding with a familiar figure. Familiar for him, because last he saw this creature, he was a Pandok. He’s still a Pandok, of course, just less recognizable as such. 

Not that Yazi considered that. He simply stared at her wide-eyed and then smiled. “You’re still at the docks!” he exclaimed. 

Yazi walked straight up to the person who had once helped him after an unfortunate incident, no small talk, no ‘hi’, simply a beeline for him with a straight face. One that turned to a smile as he appeared in front of Hiro. “You! I have to thank you, because I forgot whether I did that before when you helped me with my foot.” He then grabbed his leg and held up his foot to the other. “Look, it’s in perfect working condition again! And I have since not fallen.” 

Yazi had thrown his all into this matter of becoming a more responsible person. He’d asked advice from the most unlikely sources: his colleagues at the tavern. Half of them were women, half were men, some identified as something completely different, but they all agreed: he should court Zaya. Show her he was interested and he was willing to put in the effort. 

He’d spend over a week arranging it all, carefully planning things, writing it down, practicing, committing it all to memory, and creating a cheat sheet - he was going to need it.

So now he believed he was ready, standing outside their cottage in the woods in a white embroidered suit that he’d found on sale - and hassled the price off even further. His two footer hands were sweaty, and he looked over the little note in his hand again. Before pocketing it and stepping inside. 

“I wish to take you out to a fancy restaurant and stroll through town in the moonlight!” he proclaimed. It was overcast outside, but he hadn’t understood the phrase to begin with.