[ The shack seems to have been recently cleaned, at least, judging by the windows. But it's too dark to see inside. And Vangeance is just about to send a few of his vines creeping under the tiny crack in the door to sense the mana of whatever's inside -- when he's interrupted by a whistling sound. One that he's awfully familiar with.
Of course, it only takes him a moment to step around the shack and spot that sapling, with the wooden birds he'd crafted. And that's all the confirmation he needs.
Cinnabar had seemed awfully cautious about being around other living beings. Of course they'd sequester themselves to something lonely like this, away from others. The thought makes his chest ache for a moment, and Vangeance is all the more glad he'd stopped before invading their privacy. Nobody deserves such an indignity, but especially not someone who already seems to hurt and careful.
So instead, he waits. He's well-accustomed to wiling away the hours in the company of nature; it's something he's found comfort in since early childhood.
By the time Cinnabar finally emerges from their little shack, they might notice a few tiny changes. A few footsteps in the grass near their shack. The sapling with the carved birds seems more lively -- it's sprouted a few more tiny buds, and its leaves are greener and fuller, though the birds are untouched. And there's the flutter of red up in the branches of a tree nearby. Vangeance, nestled up in the branches, gazing off at the darkening sky; a few blackbirds keep him company, but he otherwise seems deep in thought. ]
heart fingers at cinnabar
Of course, it only takes him a moment to step around the shack and spot that sapling, with the wooden birds he'd crafted. And that's all the confirmation he needs.
Cinnabar had seemed awfully cautious about being around other living beings. Of course they'd sequester themselves to something lonely like this, away from others. The thought makes his chest ache for a moment, and Vangeance is all the more glad he'd stopped before invading their privacy. Nobody deserves such an indignity, but especially not someone who already seems to hurt and careful.
So instead, he waits. He's well-accustomed to wiling away the hours in the company of nature; it's something he's found comfort in since early childhood.
By the time Cinnabar finally emerges from their little shack, they might notice a few tiny changes. A few footsteps in the grass near their shack. The sapling with the carved birds seems more lively -- it's sprouted a few more tiny buds, and its leaves are greener and fuller, though the birds are untouched. And there's the flutter of red up in the branches of a tree nearby. Vangeance, nestled up in the branches, gazing off at the darkening sky; a few blackbirds keep him company, but he otherwise seems deep in thought. ]