41st of Frost, 120
Continued from here.
As he caught up with the coyote, he looked upon the canid with wide eyes, but tav didn't look back. He was only offered a few curious looks here and there; not one of the various beast-men and women spared him much more thought than a wandering stranger. It was... strangely comforting to be seen as normal. "Don't mind Rel, she's a beastalt," the lithe canine spoke. "Name's Tavlin, and you're in the Boydd's kinship," the man explained with a turn of his hand.
"Uhh, Arkash," he replied with a squint, then looked back at the bear 'Rel'; she didn't pay him a second glance.
"Kinship?" He asked with a glance and a raise of his brow.
"Uhh..."
"No Kinship?"
Arkash grinned a little, then awkwardly shook his head.
"Outsider?"
Hesitantly, he nodded. His heart raced in his chest.
"Where are you from, Arkash?" he asked then, then stopped at the porch of a medium-sized cottage, out of the billowing winds.
"Lorien..." he answered truthfully. Tav furrowed his brow at that and crossed one hand over his bare chest to hold his chin in thought with the other.
"There lots of rath up there?" Arkash again shook his head. Tavlin furrowed his brow, and squinted. A widening of his eyes followed. "...How old are you?"
"...Twenty-Three," he continued to ride along with the interrogation.
"And you've had your ceremony, right?"
Arkash shook his head slowly, but kept his eyes on the coyote. "No, I've... Well, I'm-"
Tav held up a hand and shook his head to halt the lizard. "Get inside and meet the others, 'chief'll be by to meet you soon," he spoke with a gesture to the door. A smile graced the coyote's lips as he descended the rickety wooden steps and turned to wave at his fellow neoalt.
Arkash hesitantly waved back and watched as the coyote darted to Rel. His enhanced hearing perked, but he could only pick up the mumble of a whisper between them over the whistle of the wind, at least until Rel barked a hearty, shocked 'WHAT?!' in response to whatever the coyote had said. Both the rakura and the coyote covered their sensitive ears at that, and three pairs of eyes glanced at him on the porch. Faster than lightning, the rath scrambled to open the door by the knob and all but threw himself inside.
The chatter within promptly stopped as he breathed the steamy hot air of the bathhouse, and the thick, warm fog of the room blinded him. The sudden warmth in his throat and lungs brought him to cough into his balled claws before he squinted and waved at the mist to try and clear his vision to no avail.
"Newcomer?" Croaked a familiar voice; it carried a raspy, throaty rumble, much like his own. Other than that, however, he didn't recognize it.
"What's your name, boy?" called another, more masculine than the first.
All sorts of smells flooded his senses. Burning coals, ash, warm water, oil, and something incredibly pungent. Incense? Salts?
"Nose-smeller?" Asked a croaky feminine voice. "Are you an ice-blood?"
Arkash looked about in a panic and flicked at the steam in an effort to clear his vision, but it was no use.
"Hey hey! Careful with those claws!" Spoke the first voice again.
"Sorry!" he cried, and dropped his claws. "I can't see anything," he explained.
"Just ahead of you, boy," Called the more masculine voice from somewhere in the steam.
"What? You never been in a bathhouse before, hun?" Asked the more female croak from nearby.
Again, his heart raced. It was quite a terrifying thing, to be surrounded and unable to perceive those surrounding oneself. After a hard swallow, he shook his head.
"Alright, stop teasing," returned the first voice dismissively. "Come closer so you can see us, kid," they offered. "You can leave your bag there if it's cumbersome."
He was hesitant, of course. But, the rathor seemed accepting, friendly. They'd let him into the bathhouse without suspicion or any visible caution. Could he trust them? No, but that was what the dagger on his hip was for. Carefully, he slid his backpack to the floor, then straightened his posture and blinked quickly as he cautiously stepped deeper into the steam-laced atmosphere. As three silhouettes made themselves clear in the steam, the sound of a crackling fire and the smell of burning coals became stronger and louder in his senses. A few more steps revealed the features of the three, and Arkash paused. They were all reptiles: Some sort of snake with a tail in place of legs, a hulking crocodile, and an iguana. The snake's forked tongue flicked from its maw a few strokes while they smelled at the air.
"A dragon," spoke the snake in the same female croak he'd heard prior. "A small dragon, but a dragon all the same."
"A dragon?" Arkash returned with a squint.
"Your animal," the crocodile boomed with the masculine voice from before. "You take after a Komodo Dragon, but Sheki's right - You're a little small."
"I'm not small-" he declared with a furrow to his brow.
"Oh! Such fierce eyes!" Called the iguana as they lifted the back of their hand to their head in a dramatic display. "You two should know to take caution with dragons, shame on you."
"I'm not a kid, either," he crossed his arms. "So stop calling me one."
"How old are you, dear?" Asked Sheki with a kind smile.
"Twenty-three," he replied, and the room fell into silence... until the three burst into lighthearted laughter, laced with a series of hisses and croaks. "What?! I'm fully grown!!" Arkash barked with an angry hiss.
"Oh, you are funny," returned the iguana. "My name is Sharok, this is Sheki and Korr," they spoke with a gesture first to the snake, then the crocodile.
Arkash kept his arms crossed, and furrowed his brow. "..I'm Arkash," he replied. "...And how old are you guys?"
"One-hundred-and-seven," answered Sheki.
"Eighty-nine," answered Korr.
"One-hundred-and-sixty-two," returned Sharok.
"Bullshit!" Arkash cursed with a curl of his nose, and another chorus of laughter echoed from the three. Korr's laughter died quickly, however, and realization seemed to strike.
"What Kinship do you belong to, Arkash?" he asked as the laughter between the other two died down. Korr smiled still in a curl of his toothy jaws, but it was clear that the tone of the talk had shifted to something more serious.
Arkash took a moment to look between the three and found that they were all half-submerged in the water of the steaming bath. Coals burned low beneath to keep the waters warm, and he furrowed his brow at the find. Cojack and Liu occasionally warmed pots of water over the fire to help warm him up back in the day; did the technique originate in Tyrclaid? "No kinship," he answered truthfully. "I come from Lorien; there's not a lot of rath up there, no." He predicted their questions based on his conversation with Tavlin.
The three fell into silence, then looked between one another in a series of silent inquiries. What they said to one another, he didn't know. That was until Sharok began "and your-."
"-No," Arkash shook his head. "No ceremony." The silence returned, and the three looked between one another, almost shamefully.
"Well," Sheki spoke up with a different tone. "The bathhouse is here for us ice-bloods in the frost. We can't put in a full day's work without two or three stops here to warm up... You said you've never seen one?"
Arkash nodded his head, then looked to the water before he extended his leather-wrapped claws to the surface. "You're an ice-blood too, right?" Quizzed Sharok.
"I'm cold blooded, if that's what you mean," Arkash replied with a softened curve to his brow. Warm water was one of the nicest things on Atharen. It always helped to put him at ease and loosened his tight, frost-cramped muscles.
"...You're welcome to climb in, if you like," invited Korr with a turn of his clawed hand. None of them protested, either.
Arkash looked up at the invitation, then glanced between the three. "Really? You don't mind?"
"Of course not, hun!" Sheki called with a grin. "Come on, you must be damn near bruising after being out there with whatever clothes those are," she spoke with a gesture to his tarnished and tattered leathers and linens.
With that, Arkash nodded his head and stepped away to disrobe. His eye briefly met the hilt of his dagger as his belt came off, but it quickly left his mind, along with the cumbersome weight of thought of Lorien. He was far away from it all among the Boydds. And though he'd been hesitant and unsure at first, he thought he could trust them.
