i stood for nothing

*snags* i couldn't resist. :D

Kerberos had been, slowly, getting himself accustomed to life in Neverwinter though it ranged vastly different than his life in Shearwater Bay. Kerberos was, by now, no stranger to homesickness though there were times when it would hit him worse than others. He missed the Sea. He missed Sila. He missed Kaskae and Jinx. He missed the ability of freely traversing the path to the Great Bear alters which he had taken to cleaning simply because he didn’t mind the task. Yet, Atka had pushed him to this place, he had left at her divine decree and he had no desire to displease the Goddess. Though Kerberos had surprised himself when he had approached Styx about the Diplomat co-rank, particularly because Kerberos was not the worlds most social creature, it felt...right. What better way to help him get out of his hermit shell than to fulfill such an important role? He had watched Nanuq wield diplomacy so masterfully enough, from the shadows of brush as a child, awed by his adoptive mother often enough to understand how it worked. Besides, on the scale of warrior or peacekeeper, Kerberos fit the bill of peacekeeper more accurately. He was not one for violence. Especially because, not always, but most of the time it was (usually) avoidable. Though his new title relied upon the ability of communicating -- something he was getting used to for Atka, as it was -- Kerberos strove to do his daily tasks to the best of his ability.

Sea-green eyes pre-planned Kerberos’ path as he shrugged his way through the forest, relieved to have to not carry his gift of the Sea around with him all the time now that he had a stable den. He had not yet eaten the seaweed he had swathed it in, though it continued to tempt him, instead rearranging it so it acted as a barrier between the gleaming, beautiful pearl and the earthen floor of his den. Steps paused, body hesitating as a muffled sound, though Kerberos had no idea what, exactly it was, tickled at his sandy colored ears, which had perked, thrusting forward atop his skull. He took a couple steps in the direction, eyes seeing the back of an ivory creature -- presumably a wolf, possibly a new recruit -- that smelled semi-familiar. Kerberos had been in the process of attempting to convince himself it was pure coincidence; that homesickness had taken to a new form of torture and was playing with his mind when the wolf spoke.

He knew that voice. Of course he knew that voice! He’d grown up with that voice. It made no sense but there was no doubt in the identity of the wolf as Kerberos approached boldly. “Jinx?!” Of course his tone had to come out incredulous sounding because, mentally, Kerberos was still not sure that it was real, but he supposed there was no other way to find out if it was real or not than to interact.