(se) i hear the secrets that you keep

Aamu

Perhaps he is made of starlight too: a moon-washed ghost with his pale skin and white hair, absorbed by his own little (mis)adventure. Skip, skip—the thick braid flops along his back as he finds his way, graceful and precise. Each time he reaches ahead to feel the ground out with the rod he hopes to not disturb some of the more unsavory creatures of the swamp.

Habit has him breaking focus every so often to stop, peer around and listen, before continuing on. And it's during one such little pause he (to his own surprise) actually notices something. He is just about to hop along again when he registers the presence, the moving light, and he braces so as to not topple himself into the waters.

It's... a fox? A fox. A fox made of pure light and stars, prowling an island barely worthy of being designated as such. A gnarled tree sprouts from the glorified patch of dry ground.

Aamu remains poised on his tussock, staring towards the fox and the tree with a slight frown. What's out there? And why? He knows that curiosity will one day get him well and truly killed, but it's.. fucking intriguing, okay.

So he stands there, indecisive.

This is how it works, You're young until you're not
You love until you don't, You try until you can't