Something so known to me, sunlight oh sunlight // All of your love is sunlight
Jigano - or Smith, as Cera would know him now - had been a faithful guide and an emphatic teacher. Though it was disorienting to have another form, Cera had enough experience with magic to pick up the transition rather smoothly after being introduced to it. Still, he found himself wandering and exploring the reaches of the town on two feet rather than four, fonder of conversation than ease of travel. There was so much to see and explore, a veritable encyclopedia of information to absorb about the land and its inhabitants that tantalized him from the start. Though he regrettably has to allot a certain amount of time to keeping himself alive at the very least, Cera spends most of his days wandering the settlement he was slowly coming to understand.
On one such day he is wandering - aimless as always these days, solitary as he was - through the markets. A small pouch hangs at his hip, strung across one broad shoulder and a long-fingered hand resting on the strap as he peruses the daily selection. Bartering was something he could partake in, unsure of the monetary system as he was, and he'd had luck with bringing in kills wrapped in leaves and leathers to ensure he had a broader selection of more human-attuned tastes. A few fresh selections of meat were tenderly wrapped in some of the butcher paper he'd been kindly given by one of his more frequent bartering buddies, ready to be frozen or cooked by whoever he traded with that day.
Instead, fate seems to have other ideas as weight pulls fabric taught against his legs. Cera startles, but years of a companion running up his limbs keeps him from kicking out against whatever bold creature climbs up his trousers. Verdant eyes glance down, wide and surprised as a small mouse scampers from his hip to the closest vendor's table. Luckily whoever runs this stall is haggling with another customer, allowing Cera a moment to watch the little thing.
Inching closer, not wanting to startle it and unsure if it was Attuned, companion, or simple mouse, Cera bends at the waist to whisper to the little creature. Yes, he does feel a little silly, but his soft heart cannot help but sympathize with the way it scrounges. A hand delves into his bag to pull out a small pack of meat and a handful of berries, unsure which would appeal more to the little creature. Nimble fingers peel back the butcher paper on the meat, and he edges closer.
"Little one," he whispers, heat coating his ears a charming shade of red in his embarrassment at the idea of being overheard. His hand opens to very slowly offer the food. Hopefully his soft tone will not frighten the mouse, especially if it is a wild one with no way of understanding his language. "Surely this is more appealing than scampering away with such a heavy piece? Let us not bother the poor vendor, I will happily share with you," Cera murmurs almost nonsensically. As a follower of the God of the Earth in his youth, speaking to various fauna and flora alike had never bothered him or struck him as particularly odd.
He only hopes that if this little creature does understand him, that it will deign to trust him enough to either take the food or allow itself to be carried to where Cera could safely set him down with the food. He could not help but worry about the poor thing being trampled, with how bold it was to have leaped upon him in the first place.
On one such day he is wandering - aimless as always these days, solitary as he was - through the markets. A small pouch hangs at his hip, strung across one broad shoulder and a long-fingered hand resting on the strap as he peruses the daily selection. Bartering was something he could partake in, unsure of the monetary system as he was, and he'd had luck with bringing in kills wrapped in leaves and leathers to ensure he had a broader selection of more human-attuned tastes. A few fresh selections of meat were tenderly wrapped in some of the butcher paper he'd been kindly given by one of his more frequent bartering buddies, ready to be frozen or cooked by whoever he traded with that day.
Instead, fate seems to have other ideas as weight pulls fabric taught against his legs. Cera startles, but years of a companion running up his limbs keeps him from kicking out against whatever bold creature climbs up his trousers. Verdant eyes glance down, wide and surprised as a small mouse scampers from his hip to the closest vendor's table. Luckily whoever runs this stall is haggling with another customer, allowing Cera a moment to watch the little thing.
Inching closer, not wanting to startle it and unsure if it was Attuned, companion, or simple mouse, Cera bends at the waist to whisper to the little creature. Yes, he does feel a little silly, but his soft heart cannot help but sympathize with the way it scrounges. A hand delves into his bag to pull out a small pack of meat and a handful of berries, unsure which would appeal more to the little creature. Nimble fingers peel back the butcher paper on the meat, and he edges closer.
"Little one," he whispers, heat coating his ears a charming shade of red in his embarrassment at the idea of being overheard. His hand opens to very slowly offer the food. Hopefully his soft tone will not frighten the mouse, especially if it is a wild one with no way of understanding his language. "Surely this is more appealing than scampering away with such a heavy piece? Let us not bother the poor vendor, I will happily share with you," Cera murmurs almost nonsensically. As a follower of the God of the Earth in his youth, speaking to various fauna and flora alike had never bothered him or struck him as particularly odd.
He only hopes that if this little creature does understand him, that it will deign to trust him enough to either take the food or allow itself to be carried to where Cera could safely set him down with the food. He could not help but worry about the poor thing being trampled, with how bold it was to have leaped upon him in the first place.
