Turned down at the gates of heaven, and yet a spark of hope was held within. Coming off of the talk with the lady in Tunnel M, Audland had sought to make his way to wherever Master Astraea might be. Audland didn't want to go to back to the coliseum in Orion. He didn't want to stay in Polaris either, given the people he was trying to avoid. Orion was the better choice.
Finding Astraea might be a difficult task regardless. Audland had no idea how to predict where the Master should be. He didn't even know the Master had existed until that fateful day. Did the guy only come when there were crowds? Events? Gladiatorial combats?
Audland would work himself into a desperate tizzy as he walked through the tunnel from Polaris to Orion, wracking his brain for ways to attract that kind of attention by himself. Damn that spark of hope to hell. He didn't want to do ANY of this. But it wouldn't go away. It just wouldn't leave him. He had to see this through, whatever this was.
An inclination of his head accompanied perhaps some flicker of distant recognition in his ruby eyes, and though he was about to continue on, something about the Valkhound gave him pause. Body language, perhaps. As though it was recognizable that this one was searching for him.
He stayed motionless, silent, for just a beat. To give Audland time, if he so wished it, to introduce himself--or whatever Audland wished.
@Audland
What Audland hadn't known was that the deer tended to appear when he was needed most.
(And that none had desperately needed him in a while...)
Audland nearly collided with Astraea, he was too deep in his own head. But he stopped just a moment short, upon realizing first that someone was there, and then whom it was. Audland would stare in silence at Astraea for a moment, wide-eyed. His thought dome wiped clean. And then, after a brief system reboot, the thoughts would come flooding back to him.
Perhaps there was a bit too much child-like wonder in that reaction for a valkhound who could no longer be considered fresh and new, but that was just the kind of awe that homosexuality inspired.
The Master, millennia old and enduring indignity after indignity, struggled to recompose himself. Surely... Audland had meant no insult. He closed his eyes, and reopened them without any trace of anger. "I see. What sort of advice?" he asked, once more with his usual elegant composure.
@Audland
It was humiliating, but Audland humbled himself. Purely because the agony of the remaining unknown bothered him so much more than this moment of weakness. Isn't that a crazy thing to realize?
He found himself having to compose himself for the second time in thirty seconds.
He then cleared his throat softly, tipping his chin up just a little in an almost playful (but still perfectly superior) stare.
"Are you asking about the emotional capacity of Valkhounds, or are you asking after instructions as to the... physical mechanics of it?" It was best to clarify.
He doubted someone wanting sex ed basics would appreciate a philosophical meandering... or vice versa.
@Audland