You are the night-time fear
Once the call for help goes up on the notice board Aamu does not hesitate. Not only did he promise to help, but he wants to. After all, Isla rescued him that day, took him from his thoughts and the crowd and led him somewhere else, where he would have space and time to think. She offered help she did not have to give, and he wants to show his appreciation.He is beat to the clinic by two others. Mabel, looking better now that she's not half-drowned but still sisterless, and someone he doesn't know. His face is vaguely familiar, but not in an old way. Likely someone from the Festival, then. "Hello," he says, nodding to Isla and Mabel before fixing his pale gaze on the third Ascended in the room. "I am Aamu." His voice is light and lilting.
Once introductions have (or have not) been made, he goes for the only task not in progress. He doesn't notice the temperature of the water—assumes it to be cooled by the breeze from the open windows—as he wets the rag in it and wrings it out. Slowly he starts to work across the floor, scrubbing grime and stains from the stone flagstones where Isla has already swept the dust and debris away.
Aamu mops!
You are the morning when it's clear
AAMU
