[o] for the first time in years

// it's really bursting at the seams from absorbing everything //

Despite the years that have changed Halo and her frigid temperatures, Glas has very much stayed the same. Toiling away in the Westfall Crafting business on the strip of merchants in the Citadel, the crafter remains working day in and day out, heading back home to the house that now solely belongs to him – lonely, for the most part, if it weren’t for the feline that joins his jaunts.

Not a companion, but the orange tabby is just as attached to the young man as a companion might be – such that the only real change the Westfall business has had in the previous years is a cat tree in the window and a variety of spaces for him to lounge. On the desk, a card reads that the cat is content, does not need to be fed – as Glas is worried about him getting a little bit overweight – and that his name is Blaze, and truthfully? The feline has helped Glas be a little less intimidated by the vast majority of dealing with everything on his own.

So today, he tinkers away again, working on a dresser this time with his magic activated – working in a blur to anyone else that might see despite how time seems to pass normally, hammering away and trimming wood, before placing a stain on the creation.

Glas

// the spectrum's A to Z //

It was one of those ‘big important errand’ moments that Erebos longed for – perhaps to feel useful, to stretch his legs, to unfurl the restless ambitions toiling around him, or too simply move. Energy was a rampant thing, coiled within him like a spring, and when he’d barely rambled across the earth it surged – the letter in hand to deliver to one of the merchants further down the blocks of alleyways and routes he already knew by heart.

Hardly alone, for Zuriel was a stern escort, he also had Orsino, who, much like himself, was a boundless venture of fervency and ridiculousness. More than once they bounced and bounded off each other in zeal; his laughter loud and exuberant, and the companion would follow close at hand, screeching in his icy wakes. Zuriel more than once rolled her eyes, snorting, trying to ensure they kept to the path.

Stopping at what he thought was the right place, he gave a little sing-song outside the door, knocking on the wooden berth. “Delivery for you~,” of which it wasn’t meant for Glas or his constituents, in fact, it should’ve been one more door down.

erebos

and then we dream so much

// it's really bursting at the seams from absorbing everything //

He tinkers away, hammering and lining up everything, staining and waiting for it to be done – only dispelling his magic once it’s nearly complete. He drifts toward the rest of his shop then, seeking out the orange tabby sat on the cat tree, stretched out and belly up to scratch his head between his ears, receiving a welcoming purr.

It causes a small smile to bloom on his scarred face, one warm and full of appreciation despite the loneliness he often surrounded himself with. This little bubble of comfort breaks immediately with the soft knock on the door and the surprise that flickers through him. He didn’t have any customers that he was aware of, nor did he have any deliveries he was expecting – based off of the young voice that calls out to him.

Still, though, the crafter drifts toward the door and pops it open – his green gaze dropping to the boy with a rather blank looking face. “Hi.. I-I wasn’t expecting a delivery t-today.” He says almost immediately, forcing through the stutter before he sucks in a breath to settle himself before he speaks again, leaning a little into the space between them to see if he can read the name on the delivery out of curiosity. “Who’s it for?”

Glas

// the spectrum's A to Z //

The moment the stranger opened the door everything felt off. Not from the individual himself, but the notion of something wrong. The youth glanced down at the paper. Then back at the unfamiliar individual. Back at the paper again. Then towards the road to the right of him, staring at the doorway of the place the message was meant to be sent to. The confirmation of his confusion, and thereby foolishness, came on the inquiry, the statement, and Erebos began to feel his cheeks redden. “Oh, uh, my mistake!” Grimacing, pretending, he held the missive and address up as if that would fix and mend things. “You’re not Mr. Hornblitz,” clearly.

He probably would’ve kept right on going, but his eye caught a fluffy tail, and a series of motions left him peering inward (including far too much boldness and a lack of shy complexities), Orsino at his heels, Zuriel trying to pry him away by the back of his jacket. “Cool cat!”

erebos

and then we dream so much

// it's really bursting at the seams from absorbing everything //

Glas watches as Erebos looks down to the paper with the name, then down the street, then the realization sits in – a faint flush coloring the youth’s face. And immediately, Glas offers a small smile, as if to prove to him that it wasn’t that big of a deal. “It-It’s okay.” The crafter murmurs softly, a reassurance as he straightens up with some relief to know that he’s not receiving a delivery unexpected and unaccounted for. “I’m Glas.” He offers in case it helps when Erebos might need to make a delivery to him in the future.

Though as he watches the youth, the realization becomes clear with the familiar enough build of his face, one that mirrored their Warden and his wife quite well, in fact. But he can’t find it in him to ask, especially when the young man’s attention is caught by the orange feline perked up curiously. Glas steps back, the door widening despite how the fox tries to tug the youth out of the door. The crafter realizes he’s got time to kill while he waits for the staining to be finished and so he looks from feline to boy. “Thanks. I-I like your f-fox.” He says, drawing in a steadying breath. “D-do you wanna meet him?” He asks, gesturing with his head to the feline that seems way more interested now with the potential opportunity of even more attention.

Glas

// the spectrum's A to Z //

Erebos didn’t have it in him to be embarrassed for long, that impetuous nature combined with a youthful self-confidence and wholly lack of insecurity made it feasible to shake off the error with a deep breath and resigning to letting Zuriel take the parchment. With a shake of her head, she snagged the envelope from the youth’s grasp with horse teeth and haughty disposition, going to right the wrongs by marching down to the other house herself, leaving the lad to blink owlishly up at the crafter, then grin, as if strange circumstances hadn’t even occurred. “Hi Glas. I’m Erebos! Sorry about not getting a letter. I can write you one if you want though. I've been practicing.” He stuck out of his little hand, something he’d seen his father do on many occasions, in an effort to shake and unfurl niceties after committing social blunders.

Unaware the crafter might have been hoping the boy and his menagerie of animals might hasten off, his attention went from fox to cat and back again. His head tilted as the door widened, watching the tabby, big grin on his face. “Okay! But I can’t go in a stranger’s house,” so he parked himself right on the steps, snagging Orsino around his middle and hoisting him up onto his shoulders to free his hands. “Is it your companion? This is Orsino! He’s mine!” pointing at said frosty cub, who gave an icy screech in response. “My mom has a cat too but it’s a tide jaguar,” and therefore, not orange.

erebos

and then we dream so much

// it's really bursting at the seams from absorbing everything //

It’s really sweet, actually, that the youth tries hard to keep the crafter from having his feelings hurt about not receiving a letter – as such, the abandoned can’t help but to let the smile remain on his face, a soft tug against the scar tissue on his left cheek. “If.. If you want to.” Glas says with a small amount of difficulty, wanting it to not come off like he didn’t care, but if Erebos wanted to be a pen pal of sorts while he learns how to write, who is Glas to complain?

When it comes to meeting the cat, the second the answer leaves the youth’s lips, Glas’ brows lift with a bit of surprise as if he hadn’t realized his overstep. “Right.” He manages under a soft breath, stepping away so he can snag the feline from the cat tree that seems very intrigued by the youth and the fox on the porch steps. “He’s n-not my c-companion. J-just a pet.” He bends a little once he reaches the doorframe again, the feline in his arms leans out of his grasp a little toward the boy and the fox with a mewl of greeting and a bout of purring. “His n-n-name’s Blaze.” It’s not creative in the slightest – though Glas never thought he had to be with the cat’s name. It’s just what seemed to fit.

He’s an orange cat, after all.

Glas

// the spectrum's A to Z //

With the agreement of letters set, the youth grinned again, beaming his little smile. “Okay! I can draw pictures and stuff.” He glanced back where the unicorn had gone, not surprised to see her stalking back just as quickly as she’d left, the envelope set aside for the actual owner, and her guardian-esque prowl right back up. The mare didn’t seem to pay much mind to Glas, but certainly had her eyes fixed on Erebos, taking her role very seriously.

With a huff at the equine, the boy set his attention right back to cats. “Pets are good to have too though!” Erebos answered, just as content with such an arrangement, settling himself right on stone steps and waiting for an opportunity to pet and scratch the orange tabby. Orsino made as much of a fuss, perhaps seeing the feline as an incoming playmate, and Erebos giggled as he had to maneuver the kit multiple times out of his lap. “Blaze is perfect!” His hand went to reach out to pet said faultless and flawless model, just as he’d been told many times with each animal that frequented the Ignatius household, gently, from head to tail.

erebos

and then we dream so much

// it's really bursting at the seams from absorbing everything //

Glancing up to see the unicorn return with a very abrupt focus on the youth, Glas tries to offer her a small smile before focusing back on the young man that mentions he can draw pictures and stuff. Something that Glas also nods to – trying to make sure Erebos feels like he’s heard, even if Glas can’t speak that well. “C-cool.” He murmurs as he holds Blaze in his arms and bends enough that the youth can scritch the cat.

Pets are good to have, and to be honest it’s opened Glas up to a lot more social outings and reasons than he otherwise had – which was better for him in the long run even if he didn’t want to do them. “He is.” Glas admits, dropping into a crouch now as the feline purrs louder and tilts his head and wiggles his body into each scritch offered, unperturbed by Orsino and his own excitement.

Glas reaches out to try and pet the fox, too, almost as if wondering if the fox was as soft as he imagined he was. “Ors-ino is too.” He offers, flashing a slightly brighter smile at the boy.

Glas

// the spectrum's A to Z //

Certain the murmuring of ‘cool’ was acceptance, because perhaps the youth’s drawings were of such a designation, he nodded, ready and eager to snag at the cat. The purring only rendered the grin on Erebos’ face that much wider, and despite all his loud, exuberant qualities, could maintain some calm equanimity as he gave Blaze’s fur gentle, even strokes of his fingers. “He’s really soft,” he glanced over at Glas, looking for some kind of confirmation that everything was fine.

Orsino, not to be outdone, gave another icy screech as the crafter offered to pet the silky, arctic layered fur. While he wiggled and turned around in looping circles, fluffy tail going every which way, it was clear the companion enjoyed the attention, from anyone and everyone at this point. “Thanks! I found him in the Greenwing,” on the off chance the older individual would find he’d wanted one of his own. “Where did you get Blaze?”

erebos

and then we dream so much

// it's really bursting at the seams from absorbing everything //

The crafter nods in agreement as Erebos pets Blaze, the feline purring and absolutely content with the attention he’s receiving. His focus, however, is on the fox as he reaches out to scritch the fox – finding the creature’s fur far softer than he’d imagined. He’d never gotten this close to one before, but as Orsino spins and shows off all kinds of excitement for the attention, Glas can’t help the soft laugh that leaves him – a sound that is far and few between for the young man.

Looking back at Erebos to hear he’d found him in the Greenwing, Glas nods his head again. “I.. Haven’t been.” To the Greenwing yet, at least. Too much of a hermit these days. As for where he got Blaze, Glas looks down to the orange feline absolutely content in his arms. “Uh, here. In the Cit-tadel.” He swallows, like he might be able to focus his words and mouth to quit stuttering for a moment. “His owner passed and his family c-couldn’t take care of him anymore. I found him and he came home w-with me.” There was more to it than that – the family hadn’t been able to take care of him and poor Blaze had escaped out the door, going from home to home like a quiet beggar until he’d ended up on Glas’ doorstep. And without a flyer to know where the feline belonged to initially, it had taken almost a year before he’d realized the cat belonged to the eldest member of the Brantree family. By then, they seemed happy that he’d found a home that could take care of him and that the orange feline had seemed absolutely smitten, and so Blaze had stayed.

Glas

// the spectrum's A to Z //

Chatting away to the cat and fox about this and that, the soft murmurings were mostly about how amazing both were, giggling under his breath about claws or tails. His head glanced up from his careful work of tending to the animals once Glas announced he hadn’t been, mouth rounding into a little ‘o’ of surprise. “It’s really nice there! Well, except for the ursurs.” Shrugging those notions off as if they weren’t a big deal, he was his parents’ son, he listened to the story instead.

The story itself seemed quite sad – his imagination running rampant on the fringes of owners passing and families incapable of taking the creature in. His gaze went back and forth, from cat to crafter, before granting the little tabby a light hug. “Wow, so you were really awesome for taking him in. You’re a good person!” he offered in grins and smiles for someone he’d just met.

erebos

and then we dream so much

// it's really bursting at the seams from absorbing everything //

His brows lift in a bit of surprise to hear the mention of ursurs, though he really shouldn’t be. They did roam quite frequently, but so long as it wasn’t cannibals or cultists, Glas thinks he might be able to manage. Only.. Perhaps, so long as he doesn’t go alone. Which would also require meeting someone and venturing out that way, which he was very unlikely to do. So instead, he takes the youth’s word for it. “I’ll have to g-go and see.” He offers with a soft smile, before he delves into the story that he works really hard at to try and not stutter over – pacing himself as he’s learned can help.

That, and knowing which words were likely for him to stumble over. The sounds that triggered it especially bad. As Erebos leans in to give the feline a hug, the cat purrs loudly with absolute content – not sure why exactly the boy is hugging him but not at all complaining. “Th-thanks.” He murmurs warmly, letting the young boy’s grin and smile settle somewhere in his chest.

Glas

// the spectrum's A to Z //

Left to his own devices, and no one telling him otherwise, Erebos could more than make up for Glas’s silence. With the shyness, and agreement stored there, the youth didn’t seem to mind the former, nor the latter, hastening onwards. “Yeah and they have really pretty streams, and grass everywhere! That’s probably call it the Greenwings. And then if you’re lucky you can find more than just the frost foxes! Maybe the luxere! Have you ever seen one?” Babbling onward, content to grant and give pause where the crafter might fit in two words, the lad gave a bright grin towards the accepting cat, and ignored the way Zuriel dramatically sighed.

With Orsino angling for more scratches from anyone willing, the youth utilized both hands, one to pet Blaze, and the other to occupy his own companion. “Dad says the luxere are important. And they helped make our hot springs!” In a way or two – but he’d elaborate if Glas wished.

erebos

and then we dream so much