Welcome to Gaia! ::

Lithian yipped, stance and concentration completely broken by the harsh sound of a third voice, and all hold on the water under his control snapped. Form popping and rushing out and down as though freed from the confines of an invisible balloon, the massive orb of water spilled to the cave floor with a crash. Fortunately — or, Lithian certainly prayed so — it hadn’t been near enough to any blankets or other water-damageable supplies to do much harm, but it was close enough to the fire itself to make the flame hiss, peter, and go out.

Face on fire and limbs quivering in terror as much as embarrassment, Lithian rushed to get a grip back on the water as it sloshed out over the cave floor. He rocked, palms open, pushing it like a wave out of the cave and back into the snow where it belonged. Saving only the small amount that belonged in his flasks, he made quick work of tucking that away, too, before stumbling back in the dark, stammering over his apologies.

“I-I-I’m sorry. I wasn’t attacking, I promise. I was just—I just wanted, I thought—” Lithian squeezed his eyes shut, though it made little difference in the dark, his eyes not yet adjusted and the storm too thick still for the moon to make itself seen. Then again, oblivionites could see in the perfect dark, couldn’t they? His breath shook on his exhale. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, yelping again in surprise when he backed into the far cave wall and then sinking against it, curling up. “Please don’t kill me.”

Lithian tensed at the hand on his shoulder, but with nowhere else to go, he couldn’t pull back and didn’t dare jerk away sidelong. At least, a part of his mind consoled him, the man wasn’t attacking. Yet. When he mentioned his gender, Lithian’s cheeks burned, fear momentarily forgotten, and as the man pulled away, Lithian relaxed a fraction. Whatever Ysette’s words, this man didn’t seem anything like the oblivionites she’d encountered. Perhaps he was different, or perhaps she was wrong — or, Lithian second-guessed himself, perhaps this one was just nonsensically good at acting. He cringed internally at the thought.

When fire sparked to life, however, more of Lithian’s tension seeped out, and he found his eyes flicking restlessly between the father-son duo, curious beyond words, now that neither of them seemed to have violent intentions towards him. He considered answering the grown oblivionite’s first question — telling him about Ysette and her opinions — but he decided that for now, at least, it was probably best to leave her thoughts out of it. If the man did indeed have genuinely peacable intentions towards him, the last thing he wanted to do was suggest that he had violent family members out there who would mean them ill.

When the food began to cook, Lithian’s stomach rumbled audibly, reminded that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning, and his cheeks warmed again in embarrassment. “My magic isn’t all that good, anyway,” he murmured in response the man’s final statement. “I have a lot to learn yet…” He touched his fingers to his impatient belly and moved closer to the fire before pulling his knees up close to his chest again and propping his chin on them, trying not to be too obvious about his gawking as his eyes flicked repeatedly back to Casseth’s father’s tail. “I am a boy though. Sorry for the…” He frowned, plucking at his hair and curling a loose lock around one finger, “…confusion. I’m Lithian.”