If he’d had his druthers, Koel would avoid parties and festivities of any kind. They’d been seemingly omnipresent in Northaven: every single event had required some sort of ridiculous ball or gala or even more pretentious gathering. Weddings had been the worst—what with that dumb rule about having to marry—but honestly, the people of his old world hadn’t seemed to mind as much as he did. So, while the conditions under the bubble were harsh, in one way he was glad that he was no longer forced to suffer through the ridiculous niceties of Northaven.
He should’ve known he wouldn’t be that lucky. It seemed this new world had its own share of traditions and customs. Luckily, he was no longer obligated to go, so he was fully intending to stay away. He even had the perfect excuse: recuperating from lingering injuries sustained during exploration. However, as the lights had started flying into the sky and the sounds of revelry had drifted through the ruins, he’d stirred, something deep within him needing a connection. He felt like he hadn’t talked to anyone, not really, not since he first came here, to awash in pain and wallowing in his ongoing grief over his losses.
Perhaps it was time to change that. So, despite his reservations, he’d hobbled his way over to the gathering. When he arrived, he hovered by the edges of it—simply taking in the scene and observing those present—before deciding that even he, introverted as he was, probably should make an effort to talk to people. But he didn’t want to talk to people he knew; they’d want to talk about where he’d been, and fret over him, and generally he wasn’t in the mood for serious conversation tonight.
Besides, he still hadn’t gotten to know these natives—or, at least, hadn’t found a way to communicate effectively with them—so he wanted to see if he could rectify that. Spotting unfamiliar faces in Wessex and Rory, he limped over to them, as friendly a smile as he could manage on his face. It wasn’t very, and it slipped away soon enough. Koel wasn’t good at smiling. ”Evening, folks.” At least his voice came out smoothly enough; if nothing else, managing the ridiculousness of bluebloods had taught him to be polite.
koel ambray
Taking the path of most resistance
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