ORIGIN

He tore his eyes away from the youngster, scanning the room for other Gembounds but it seemed they were, for the moment, alone - perhaps Senka had actually succeeded in frightening the crowd away. His tail flicked, a single ear rotated toward the cub at her question. How was he supposed to know how tigers lived? He wasn't a tiger. Although he had met one or two in his lifetime. What were they like? Big predators, powerful hunters - very much unlike Bartos. He frowned at the thoughts swirling inside his head.

What did she say her name was? Apzohra... Swift... Swiftwater. That probably meant she liked water, or that it was her element. Bartos needed to visit the water too, but, with a few sniffs, he could tell the lagoon in Pisces was still tainted; it would do neither of them good to bathe or drink from plague-infested waters. They could visit Polaris, but he had little interest in fighting against the current of the river or golems should they happen to attract any. He knew there to be water in Cetus and Eridanus, too, but the water in Eridanus was cursed, and in Cetus it was muddy.

Where else could they go?

His memories drifted back to Fornax. He scarcely visited the humid room, but he knew it was almost entirely submerged, and chances were that whatever plagued the lagoon probably wouldn't be able to plague the entirety of Fornax. There, then. They would go to Fornax to drink, bathe, learn about magic, and do... whatever it was tigers did.

"Fine," he said tersely and emerged from the den.

Stepping into the light, he nearly winced; or maybe it was the strain on his twisted back leg, stiff with disuse after so many cycles cooped up in his den. Bartos twitched his whiskers and peered over his shoulder at his matted, malodorous pelt, serving up a grimace as he recalled his thirst, his latent desire to clean himself. It was almost embarrassing.

He side-eyed the tiger cub. "We go to Fornax. If anyone tries to talk to us, we keep walking. I'm in no mood for pointless conversation with passersby. You have questions about anything, ask them on the way."

It wasn't pointless conversation he was worried about, though. It was their prying. Their need to fix him; broken, dirty, ill. Bartos tensed his shoulders and pushed forward, carrying himself at a brisk, uneven lope. He wasn't even looking forward to this being over, because he knew once they were done, he'd have to seek out Jinsei, too.