"Oh, yes, I will tell," he agreed. "And yes, I am older." He paused, thinking, whiskers twitching.
Although he couldn't know it, exactly, Archimedes was fairly old for his species. Granted, this was no green-grassed, blue-skied Earth they lived on, but a rat like him might live twelve months, or might live twenty-four. He was twenty-one--twenty-one cycles old--and magic kept him at his prime. But he bore that bulk, that square head and muscled body, of a big male rat. "As for-" Ahh, but now there was fur, brushing against him: kitten-soft, and plush, and he let out a quiet laugh. "Ahh-no. You are very soft, yes. You'll have a beautiful pelt, I think, once you're older," he added, in a sort of indifferent, advisory way. It was just one more vague strength the child would bear as an adult, and he wondered if her beauty would be statuesque enough to sway minds. He thought so; there was nothing untoward in the question, but he knew full well that a charming, trustworthy-looking creature could gather warm following easier than an ugly, brutish-looking one, regardless of true motives. "When I say 'sharp,' I mean keen-minded. Intelligent. You'll get there," he added, in absent-sounding reassurance.
"Friends," Archimedes echoed, and rocked back on his haunches again. He began to explain, trying to keep warmth in it, to keep a friendly, reassuring tone as best he could. Instead, his tone came out flatter than he'd wanted, informative and almost indifferent. A bad time for it, really. "Allies, you see. Those who aid one another, who take care of each other. 'Each other' are all we have in this world," he added, "those who are alone don't last very long. You're lucky I found you early," the rat went on. "Not all Gembound are... nice. You ask how to know if things aren't safe... Your instincts will tell you, to some extent, if you've got them. If they're strong enough. But anyone who chases you without speaking, who stalks you in silence--run, or fight, because those will hunt you, and kill you."
He paused, again briefly washing his whiskers, brushing away, idly, the scent of cub from his face, smoothing down the fur where her own fluff had disrupted the flow of the hairs. He spoke as he did so, as if thinking aloud, as if inviting Akaari to join his thoughts. "You do have longer legs. Which means you don't need to settle here, I think. But the caves are still large. Let's see--where's close... There's a cave that's dim, with ruins, and sparkling lights, that's close. There's a bright cave, with not many places to hide, but lots of glowing crystals. It's a bit dangerous, I think. There's a cave not too far with forests, it's quite loud--perhaps a good place for you to hunt, but... I think maybe too warm," he added, eyeing Akaari's coat speculatively. Softness aside, it was the thickest fur he'd ever seen and he imagined she was a creature meant for ice and snow. "There's a room with very cold water, and mossy places. And a swamp. There's more, of course, but they're too far for you this young, I think. Do any of them sound appealing?" he asked, and paused to watch her, patiently.