In Dire Straits - perennial [prp kitkun]

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There was only so much one could get done in a day, especially with how the summer sun quickly seemed to wash over the land and set. It was night that loved to drag on and on, but Saturn would use this last bit of light to his advantage.

He had convinced himself that what he was doing was drastically important, but if you were to ask him he'd be unable to answer it. With a stick in his jaws dragging it across a spot where the dirt was soft and occasionally smacking it across the ground with loud cracks and thuds.

This one was definitely a curious one out of his siblings, his mind was normal... enough for someone living in Saboro. His siblings often describing him as the fragile one, the boy with a weak mind and will. All because dear old dad decided to die?? Or run off with his little family, they tried not to talk about it much in front of Saturn. Always afraid of upsetting him, he'd taken it the worst.

The sound of someone's approach had alerted the slab that he wasn't alone, the stick nearly falling from his jaws, the large youth turned then, and faced the COMPLETELY WRONG direction, addressing this stranger. "Hello, would you like to help? I'm making.... Well you see I'm making, uh... uhm... Well whatever it is it's gonna be great."

Kitkun quirked a brow where Saturn couldn't see him. From this interaction alone, he has already learned several things about the boy. One: he must have been born to Saboro, some family of prestige. Psychosis and flowing hair run in families like that. Secondly: He is young, an impressionable age as he tries to find is own in the world-- possibly spurned by the loss of family during the Vanishing. He could serve as quite the asset, if handled properly. Third: He is not nearly as paranoid as he should be. This may be his downfall-- or incredibly advantageous to one like Kitkun.

"Sure. Why don't you show me how?" He purposefully keeps his vocabulary stunted: he appears as young as Saturn, if not younger, and that could aid him in getting in the boy's good graces. Quietly, the Ethiopian circles around to get a better look at the slab's work, head tilted with interest, but he is very quickly more focused on the wolf himself than his scribbling. It's his colouration, the locks that dangle down over his eyes, that strikes Kitkun with a distinct sense of familiarity.

After a moment more of observation, he takes up a stick, and begins thwacking the ground after Saturn has gone over it, efforts in tandem to his delusions. Finally, it occurs to him: the Kestrel recruitment. Sindarin, who addressed the male Peregrine as mom, with the poppies in her white hair, red-blue-yellow eyes and periwinkle-blue fur. With the branch still in his mouth, he slurs, "Do you know Sindarin?"

Ones like this are unpredictable. He is younger than Kitkun, but larger, as most are. If the name brings any sort of outburst, well, at least he has a stick.

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Ears flicking back and he'd turn his body at the crack of a whip, a whirl of blacks, bluish-reds, and whites. The fringe that covered his head shifting just enough that Saturn could spot his company, rather than listen for them. A paw would raise the rest of his mess of bangs and he'd blink as red eyes adjusted to the sudden change in light. "Ah, I can see you now." He said, a little obvious didn't you think? He'd blink once more.

Sitting back on his haunches, the young lad would look at the small trenches he had created with the stick. Not exactly admiring his hand work, in fact making a face all together. "It looks like a big mess. This isn't at all what I wanted." He complained softly, his lip twitching with mild disappointment and anger. Saturn would look back to the other and grimace. "You have to use a stick, and spin. I messed up, all my lines are crooked." A large, heavy paw slapped against the ground. 'It's supposed to be a cool pattern, I can show you." He'd move to stand up, bangs falling into his eyes and obscuring his vision once again.

He'd take a stick and stab it into the ground, spinning around shakily, all the while putting more and more pressure until it ultimately gave a SNAPPING sound. "My STICK! I need another one now." Disappointment all around, he'd lift the fringe again to see that those lines were still wobbly and not at all how he pictured them to be. "This is a bad example, but you get the idea." Saturn said with an irritated huff as he went to search the brush for a big enough branch or stick. Ears flicking back to the other's voice, huffing he turned his head slightly. Sindarin? "Yeah, kinda." Came a reply. "I know of her, I guess. I don't think she knows me though. She's my sister, sorta.... Dad had said so, and Nebula insisted and Niph and he didn't question, and Arda did whatever she pleased.

One day you have one whole dad, and it's good, things are happy and you're happy. Next day, you have no dad. Things are bad, and your brain is bad as it tries to make up for what its lost. It never can. Teeth latching onto a short twig he'd step back and frown, dropping it with a grumble. But his attentions would turn back to the brown and black male, brow raising behind a thick layer of bangs. "Why you asking? Are you one of her friends? Are you her boyfriend?" Envy found a way to creep up on him, for the plain and simple fact that this guy was asking about someone besides himself. It was a weird feeling, a gross feeling.

Quite the concern, for someone he admittedly hardly knows. Noted. "No, nothing like that. She was a Kestrel, right? So am I." He offers his stick to Saturn, then seats himself to watch. He waits out the response, or lack thereof, and lets silence linger long enough to make himself seem less of a conversationalist than he is capable of. "It's so cold, in the new territory. I like it, though. No volcano, no more earthquakes, or stampedes..." No Tribe, lurking in the swamp. "Lots of fog."

Watching for reaction; did you lose one to the Vanishing? Are you even aware? "My name is Vance," he says, settling neatly beside Saturn's psychosis. So crazy, he just might work. "Who are you?"

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"Oh. Yeah, I guess? Like I said, I know of her, kinda...." She didn't come around much, Saturn got the feeling she wasn't really fond of him or his siblings, and maybe that secretly bothered him, what am I saying?! Of course it bothered him!!! In a flash he'd be invading the other's personal space, nose just mere centimeters from this male's own. "Kestrel? I dunno what that does, but that's cool I guess." He said simply enough, eyeing the stick the male was offering and taking it for his own. "Fanks." He said, though the word was muffled.

The star speckled teen would stab at the loose dirt until the stick was able to stand upright on its own, paw swatting at it mildly for a little stability check, before he turned his attention back on the other. "I hate it here." Saturn said simply, mouth pressing into a thin line. "It's always cold and I don't really like that. I miss the old home." The one he had the pleasure of knowing in his younger years, the one he shared with his dads, until something very bad changed all of that. You're not supposed to think about that, they told you not to.

"Vance..." He tested the name and nodded. "Hi Vance." Shifting to a seated position as the other did, though his attention remained on the stick. "Saturn, it's my name. Saturn." The star sweeper would tilt his head, swatting a large paw once more, before lifting his head to look directly into Vance's green gaze, unblinking and completely serious. "Did you know I can stuff my entire paw into my mouth?"

The black that rings his eyes stretches upwards, then shifts to one side. He'd quite like to see that, really. "Really?" Kitkun prompts, all excitement and interest. "Wow. I can't do that." Of course, he's never tried. Gaze shifting from the teen to the stick and back, amusement evident. "I can make bird noises, though."

Aside from the party tricks, the ethiopian does have a professional purpose here. Saturn is related to Sindarin, part of an old family that may or may not still be around. Maybe with time he can draw out any family secrets, or ingratiate himself enough to earn the boy's devotion-- an ally, should the need arise.

Even so, he can always pass the time with party tricks.

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He blinked behind a mass of hair, but didn't say anything, the prompt was all he needed , and quickly without warning (actually maybe a little too quick and eager, to be honest) the young male would shove his appendage into his mouth, entirely. Tongue lolling out the side, his other paw would move to lift up his bangs, eyes squinting as they readjusted to the change in light. "Shee, hurdy grat!" He said though his words near unintelligible from being muffled.

The drool started to cascade from his mouth in heaps and it was about that time he pulled his paw from his jaws, licking his chops as he did so, and shaking off the excess slobber that clung to his paw. "It's a neat little trick, but it's not really useful." It's something that Niph and Nebula had said to him, gently at least, maybe they were afraid that he'd actually try to do that at a rank recruitment? Maybe he still would if he ever got the chance.

The hair was back over his eyes and the teen tilted his head with what could be assumed curiosity, rather than confusion at Vance's words. "Bird noises? That's pretty neat. Can you make some right now?" There was an air of excitement in his voice, even more so when his fur seemed to prickle on end. Having forgotten all about Vance's concerns with Sindarin.