"Muh mom?" he asked in response. "Well, she's really taul, much bigga thun any human I've seen, bu' no' as big as muh dad." he paused for a moment, and his head tilted lazily to the side. Getting him to talk might have been a tactic to help fight the cold, to keep him focused. To some extent, it worked. "She's really fluffy, an-n warm, 'specially her tail." He added as the young lady wrapped him in her coat. It still held her bodyheat in its fabrics, which his own body siphoned in turn. It kept his blood flowing at a more reasonable speed, and prevented the complete stalling of his muscles. "She kinna looks like a dog, but... she dun' like i' when 'ew say it."
His body was cold, at least in comparison to Elizana's; it was as though she'd wrapped an iceblock with her coat, and attempted to warm it from the outside. He moved with her pull, but his legs were stiff and slow. It took some convincing to move. "She..." He started again, but never returned to the thought. They were no longer in the alley, though he couldn't recall how it had happened. A glance to his side revealed the young Eli without her coat, helping him along.
She offered to play a game of sorts, a game that was to spot someone, her brother. He barely caught the rules; he didn't want to play a game, he wanted to sleep. Hibernation called to him, and all thoughts of self-preservation had all but left him some twenty minutes prior. While the pair trudged through the snowy streets, he knew only the rigid stiffness in his joints, the fatigue in his muscles, the ache in his lungs. The promise of a deep sleep just a blink of his eyelids away was certainly promising, but he held off for Elizana's sake. She seemed kind enough to drag him the rest of the way to... wherever they were going, and he didn't want to bother her that much. So, half-asleep, he continued to push through the cold while he steadily siphoned her warmth through the layers of his clothes.
His response to the game never came, and in his hypothermic state, he didn't really react much to her calls for someone named Vincent, either. His yellow eyes remained fixed on the street as they walked, lost in a haze of cold, exhaustion, and euphoria. It seemed that the next time he opened his eyes, there were others around them, Elizana was being hugged by a human man, there was another boy nearby too. His name was asked, which he made out among the muffled ambiance of the world around him. He nodded in response, but he hadn't even caught the offer.
Again, he walked compliantly to wherever he was led, and though it took some effort to bend his legs enough to climb into the carriage, he got there eventually. As soon as the door was closed, the air in the room began to warm up. The three warm bodies acted as radiators, and like a parasite, the rathari began to passively absorb their excess heat through his breath, which gradually thawed his icy blood and stirred him from the brink of permanent hibernation. Still, it wasn't much warmth, just enough to keep him going.
When the question came as to where he lived, Arkash almost automatically replied "Lowa Nivenhein." Not all his faculties were awake, and it left his more complex thoughts and ideas, such as 'where am I' and 'should I tell a stranger where I live' dormant.
Lower Nivenhain, a place where the foreigners and immigrants of Lorien were ultimately destined to wind up. It was nigh the segregation district for those that had been deemed guilty of high treason, along with their ancestors. It was home to the nameless, and rarely saw any maintenance work or investment in infrastructure. Most of the building's windows were either broken, empty, barred, or boarded up. Roofing was missing in massive patches of tiles and even caved-in to the buildings on some more run-down homes. The roads were exceptionally bumpy, and a cheaper wagon would have surely lost its wheels to the many potholes and missing stretches of road. If the family did take him there, Arkash would continue to regain his senses as he absorbed the ambient warmth of the humans.
His body was cold, at least in comparison to Elizana's; it was as though she'd wrapped an iceblock with her coat, and attempted to warm it from the outside. He moved with her pull, but his legs were stiff and slow. It took some convincing to move. "She..." He started again, but never returned to the thought. They were no longer in the alley, though he couldn't recall how it had happened. A glance to his side revealed the young Eli without her coat, helping him along.
She offered to play a game of sorts, a game that was to spot someone, her brother. He barely caught the rules; he didn't want to play a game, he wanted to sleep. Hibernation called to him, and all thoughts of self-preservation had all but left him some twenty minutes prior. While the pair trudged through the snowy streets, he knew only the rigid stiffness in his joints, the fatigue in his muscles, the ache in his lungs. The promise of a deep sleep just a blink of his eyelids away was certainly promising, but he held off for Elizana's sake. She seemed kind enough to drag him the rest of the way to... wherever they were going, and he didn't want to bother her that much. So, half-asleep, he continued to push through the cold while he steadily siphoned her warmth through the layers of his clothes.
His response to the game never came, and in his hypothermic state, he didn't really react much to her calls for someone named Vincent, either. His yellow eyes remained fixed on the street as they walked, lost in a haze of cold, exhaustion, and euphoria. It seemed that the next time he opened his eyes, there were others around them, Elizana was being hugged by a human man, there was another boy nearby too. His name was asked, which he made out among the muffled ambiance of the world around him. He nodded in response, but he hadn't even caught the offer.
Again, he walked compliantly to wherever he was led, and though it took some effort to bend his legs enough to climb into the carriage, he got there eventually. As soon as the door was closed, the air in the room began to warm up. The three warm bodies acted as radiators, and like a parasite, the rathari began to passively absorb their excess heat through his breath, which gradually thawed his icy blood and stirred him from the brink of permanent hibernation. Still, it wasn't much warmth, just enough to keep him going.
When the question came as to where he lived, Arkash almost automatically replied "Lowa Nivenhein." Not all his faculties were awake, and it left his more complex thoughts and ideas, such as 'where am I' and 'should I tell a stranger where I live' dormant.
Lower Nivenhain, a place where the foreigners and immigrants of Lorien were ultimately destined to wind up. It was nigh the segregation district for those that had been deemed guilty of high treason, along with their ancestors. It was home to the nameless, and rarely saw any maintenance work or investment in infrastructure. Most of the building's windows were either broken, empty, barred, or boarded up. Roofing was missing in massive patches of tiles and even caved-in to the buildings on some more run-down homes. The roads were exceptionally bumpy, and a cheaper wagon would have surely lost its wheels to the many potholes and missing stretches of road. If the family did take him there, Arkash would continue to regain his senses as he absorbed the ambient warmth of the humans.
