Part of Attikias regretted pointing out the camp. He didn't want to land, even as his legs began to grow uncomfortable and as he shuffled on her back. He wanted to touch the ceiling, to fly higher, to find the highest place he could and just exist there. That would be perfect. He felt like he could even touch it if he just raised his hand a little bit higher.

But it would be better to get back to work. Slowly, muddling thoughts crept in as he peered down and Carja banked down to the camp. He held on tight at the momentum of her stopping. A few things went utterly flying as her wings flapped- just some loose piles, really, at least. Most of his stuff had been on lockdown after a few invasive monsters tried to break a lot of his urns.

He made to slide off of her, hissing as a scale cut into him just as she warned him about his pants. "Shit-" He muttered under his breath, falling to the ground and feeling an acute papercut on his inner thigh through the tattering her scales left. The elf bent over and pressed his hand to the scratch. A thin trickle of red blood barely oozed out, and he sucked in through his teeth, muttering out a quicker "shit" again.

He'd have to get protection if they did this again. "Might need to get something for that if we do wanna keep flying," he spoke with a half-laugh, eyebrows furrowed as he stepped aside. "Anyways- welcome to uh. Camp Elenya? This place doesn't have a name, actually." His arms came up to gesture to everything, the haphazard hoarding of the place and the sleeping hut at the far end. "Thalia and Vivilene should be around here. Actually- Vivi might be at her garden. ...Don't tell her I told you about it. She likes to have her own private space, y'know?" There was a short nod to a somewhat concealed bath leading away from the camp.

"She doesn't talk much. Thalia might be a better talker- she likes to make music and stuff like me. She's a lot better than I am." Attikias chuckled as he stepped towards his workspace, carefully placing down a kirin-like statue that had fallen over in Carja's descent. "You'll know them when you see them. Vivilene's a little smaller- white hair, deer body. Or- well, like if a deer didn't have a neck and the upper half of me but wispier was there, instead. It's better than it sounds, I promise." He turned again, removing spear and bag and placing them beside one of the few logs around the firepit. "Thalia's darker, with kind of black deer legs and another me top half. It's kind of a pattern, I think? Angela's the same, with wings and talons but just with my legs and the rest of me, and Hunter's like Fisher but on his back legs and kinda standing like me. And hair."

He glanced up to the hut, checking its integrity. Why did they always have hair? Granted, they might look a little weird if they were bald, but weren't a lot of creatures bald? Hm. Whatever, he wasn't here to worry about the semantics of how or why certain people were built certain ways.

There, he was satisfied. Stepping back with his hands on his hips, Attikias turned to Carja with a smile. "So, how do you like it? Water's that way-" and here he pointed to a more used pathway "-and there should be enough space for you to sleep if I move the urns or stash or something. Oh- jerky's in the urns, too. And the firepit- I tend to cook there, though I think you'd probably out-eat all three of us if given the chance."

Too bad they couldn't store deer meat outside of jerky. It felt like kind of a shoddy thing to feed someone bigger than him, but he would be worth the offer.

Attikias's head came up, and he only laughed a little bit more. "What? No, it's fine, it's just a little cut." He wiped away at it again with a less than appropriate stance, if he wasn't some man who lived with literally talking animals. "I've had worse. Almost broke my arm, once, when a deer actually tried to fight me. And it's not like this'll scar or anything." He stayed bent over, inspecting himself, as the sound of an urn toppling sounded above him.

His head shot up like an overprotective mother. "Careful-" he gently began, before realizing that she can't really control her own size, anyways. He looked between her and the urns, then stepped closer, his hands out. "I'll move those so you can have some room." He needed to reorganize, anyways, since everything was almost always a mess- and there were still shards to clean up...

As she inspected the hut, he moved the urns a bit closer to the tree-line and under the secondary roof, sweeping away shards or just chucking them into the jungle if they were big enough. "I don't mind knocking down some trees with your help? I could use the wood for some other stuff," he spoke idly, scratching at his neck with a free hand.

He paused at the idea of not feeding her, though. What kind of grill dad would he be if he didn't feed his guests? "Nono- I'm gonna cook for you. At least a little something. Trust me, once you've had some venison and uh- alcohol fruit? You'll not want to eat anything else." He paused, here, turning to Carja after setting down the jar in his hand. "Actually- I don't have a name for it. I dunno. Tastes good, though- but, uh, it does make you drunk." Why did he partially understand alcohol? He didn't know that, either, just knowing that apparently drunk is associated with the word.

He continued on his busy-bodying, returning to the hut to retie open a flap before being interrupted by Carja's bump. The elf smiled to her in a warm response. It was a small gesture, but it gave him a giddy sort of feeling as he stroked along the scales of her forehead. "Hey, anything for a friend, right?" A few more pats, and he was off to continue placing things back in order.

He glanced to Carja with a small "hm?" when his name was spoken again. The cut? "I'll be fine," he assured, giving her another smile and a dip of his head. He waved his hand once dismissively, but he did step forward as she held up her hand.

Was she trying magic? His face tightened as he looked to watch, taking in the lack of anything that appeared other than a fog. Must've been a failed magic, then. He took her hand in both of his and pulled it down to keep her attention. "Hey. I'll be fine, I promise. It'll scab over and be gone in like, two days."

It still stung, and he was still gently dabbing at it every so often with a couple of fingers to drag away the extra blood, but it would go away. Eventually.

"Ehh, I think I came upon a stag that decided I'd cornered it too much and that it wanted to break my spear. It's not very easy for me to actually fight without my weapons and stuff." The excuse seemed poor, but Attikias held humor in his tone at it, smiling. "I was pretty young, too. I'm about, uh-" He thought. "Sixteen cycles? Seventeen? Huh. But, uh, must've been when I was about five."

He paused, blinking as he thought about this. Damn, now he felt kind of old. Part of him also felt strikingly unqualified to have kids, but, oh well. He liked them, he was good at raising them, and so he continued on with what he was doing.

Letting go of Carja, Attikias joined her in moving the rest of the urns. "Here, put that one close to the hut," he spoke gently at one she was holding, and giving her other instructions as they worked on the camp.

He looked to the trees in thought. "I've been wanting a bit more room, anyways. And the wood'll help in a few projects- might need it to make a saddle, too." His voice began to trail as he voiced his thinking patterns out loud. "Maybe armor? I could try to make a dye out of some, but it might splinter... Maybe a better hut..?"

The elf shook his head. Carja had straightened at the prospect of a meal, and he returned to smiling, laughing once through his nose. "If we have a bit more room, you probably won't break anything anyways. I don't really get active after eating it, anyways, and it kind of cooks out when it's heated up with the deer. I wouldn't want my kids to eat the actual fruit." He stepped back, hands on his hips as he looked over the trees.

"Maybe we can clear out around that pathway? It leads to the Eyes." He pointed to the opposite end of the camp, to a minorly unused pathway that had begun to grow back over. He hadn't been down it in a while- at least, not all the way, and not as much as he'd like.

If only he knew what laid at the end of it.

Anyways, she'd offered for deer (again), and Attikias tilted his head gently. "Are you hungry for one? I have some jerky I was gonna have tonight, with spine-apples or something. We could make it a feast for the whole family." His fingers drummed on his hip as he continued to watch, thinking. "Later, though. I think the tree's're clear enough- let me get my axe..."

The final word was drawn out as he navigated towards his weapon stash, withdrawing a long-hilted tabar battle-axe. Of course, everything had to be a weapon with him. Its blade was curved, and it was obviously dulled and rusted, with a pole nearly the length of his arm. "You might have an easier time if I start them off with this. We could use the stumps for something- maybe I could move the firepit closer to the edge so we can have a bit more of a clear space in the center?" That might work.

Swinging the weapon over his non-gemmed shoulder, Attikias approached the area that Carja was working at. He looked up to her. This would work, right? He gave a soft shrug without any voicing to his thoughts.