Ugh, me dogs are right sore, they is… can’t sit down what on that bench, though… too much what in the open…
Silently listening, the Cliath sits on the grass and bramble, his thin woolen “cloak” catching on some thorny Vine. He’s listening to the business of the Sept he wants to join trying to catch his forgetful mind up to the triumphs and shortcomings… some who challenged he recognizes by sight and name, others by smell alone… He recognizes this one, but only slightly. She challenges for gatekeeper, and the Philodox judges that she has a tough job… maybe she should try again… either way, it’s not his place to speak.
The voice of The Athro speaks. The Athro who had taken the guard bed in the shared house he lived in. Thes voice begins to tell the tale of how he had come to town unannounced.
The Gnawer doesn’t pay attention to the words. He knows the tale. He lived it. He hopes to Gaia that The Athro doesn’t remember him, doesn’t remember who he was. His heart begins to press against his chest as he fervently hopes he isn’t noticed.
You can’t survive if you’re being watched, lad.
The words whisper into his head while he intently listens, wishing he could turn unseen like others as he hears the dreaded words, like the keening knell of a churchbell ringing his end.
“I went unnoticed by all, except for Caleb.”
Caleb’s heart stops as he reacts in the only way he can. He quickly pulls up his hood and tries to bury his head into it, attempting to turn himself into a pile of fabric and dirt and be unseen. But it’s too late, he’s got the glances, he has the eyes of the alpha he hears a muttered “wisdom” from somewhere and his stomach flips. Who gave a Gnawer wisdom? Who gave his tribe anything but a swift kick? It’s not right…
Wait… The Aroun continues.
“He said the gatekeeper was Sir Raoul. After talking to Raoul he turned out to be wrong.”
Oh, thank Rat… at least he mentioned the full truth…
Caleb returns to his regular place, his shoulders relaxing as he breathes in the scent of the loam he sits in, the smell wrapping around his head like a dry blanket. This is his place. Unnoticed and surviving.
In character stories from games. This information should be considered OOG for other players.
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