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He'd heard whispers that the house was haunted. He thought they were all a crock, considering he'd never seen anything that was truly haunted, and he'd certainly been around, but Basil's curiosity sometimes demanded to be indulged anyway. A haunted house was just the kind of thing that Lior would stumble upon, accidentally, though his brother would be the lucky one who actually found a haunted house, and then he'd get possessed by an evil spirit and make things difficult all around. Either Basil or Kenji would have to rescue him, more than likely Kenji, and then Lior would seethe for weeks over the entire incident.

Lior did like to make life difficult.

It was with a half-hearted hope to find his brother ensconced in the clutches of a vengeful spirit that he beat his way down the path, only to turn a corner and find the house in question. It didn't look like it was in excessively poor shape, was his first thought, and there was certainly a candle glowing inside. That begged the assumption that there was someone living there, as he'd never heard of a spirit that required a light, but then again, he supposed he didn't know everything.

He stopped outside, hands on his hips, and heard a muffled squeak to his right.

Eyes narrowing, he demanded, "Who's there?"

From between two trees, a forest child peeked out, face crimson. After a moment, she stuttered, "M-Minerva. Do you know the g-ghost?"

He flexed his palm, deciding that the girl was not a threat, and laughed. He didn't mean to be unkind, but he said, seriously, "There's no ghost, child. It's a story."

Minerva didn't seem convinced. "There's s-something in there, and no one has lived there for a long time.." She chewed her lip, edging out a bit more. "I know, because I live in this forest..."

Basil didn't seem convinced, either. "Well, someone clearly lives there."

He started forward, and Minerva squeaked. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to meet the ghost," he said, hand on the doorknob. It turned easily, and he heard her gasp.

"I'm coming t-too!" And they were in, invading someone's house.

Whether it was a ghost or not would probably have something to do with their reception.

Minerva was a quiet, shy forest child. She wasn't used to the excitement and bustle of life outside of her usual drifting grounds, and she certainly wasn't used to having people scream in her presence. The forest was kind and gentle to her; sometimes the wind howled, but the trees had soft voices, reassuring ones.

There was nothing reassuring about the blood-curdling scream that filled the house.

Though her voice was smaller, she screamed as well, clinging to the only thing that was even vaguely familiar - Basil. She buried her head in his back and continued to scream, muffled, while he glanced around the house with a vaguely disappointed air.

"Not him, then," he said, seeming to dismiss the fact that he was being an entirely rude individual by breaking into someone's home and disrupting their peace in the middle of the night. "I'm beginning to wonder if he wants to be found."

Then, he seemed to acknowledge that there was a barely-clothed woman in the room, and he turned, tucking the forest child behind him. His smile was quick and endearing, charming in a face that was used to charming; it held no malice, but a bit of mischief. "Beg your pardon, miss. I'd heard rumor that someone had taken up residence here, and I thought it might be my brother."

There was a brief pause, and Minerva sniffled behind him. His gaze traveled from the top of her wild, disheveled head, following the curve of her bust as she breathed heavily, and lingered somewhere around her toes. (He had always liked toes.) After a moment, he said appreciatively, "You are certainly not my brother."

Basil was a man who liked the sound of his own voice. He didn't necessarily need to be saying anything of importance, he just liked to talk, and enjoyed having someone around who would listen. Because of it, he could recognize the same peculiar preoccupation in someone else, and he it didn't occur to him that he might be wrong. It never really occurred to Basil that he might be wrong.

It was true enough that the villagers had warned him away from this place, but Basil often took calculated risks - and just risks in general - and rarely heeded the caution of others. He'd managed to live so far without getting brutally, viciously beaten, so he supposed that he could continue to do so until the day that he met something strong enough to make him change his ways. (He did not believe that day would come any time soon, if ever.) So, at her mention of the villagers' rumors, he merely hiked a brow, showing not a trace of fear on his face.

Behind him, though, Minerva quaked a little. "We're s-sorry," she said again, and he rolled his eyes.

"I'm not sorry. If you don't want people intruding on your home, let them know you live here," he advised, hands braced against his hips. "Otherwise, you're just begging for adventurers and fools to come bursting in." He was a little bit of both. He preferred the title of "adventurer."

Minerva couldn't decide if it was exactly safe behind him, but she at least had known him for about thirty seconds longer than she'd known the only woman, so she remained. She did, however, gasp a little at the blunt, straight-forward way that Basil spoke to the woman whose home he had just intruded.

Constellations were just... they were just forward, weren't they? She didn't think she'd ever be quite like that.