Seaside Moors only Hell is grey

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The point from which he’d abandoned a solitary life in favour of following the siblings had become lost within his mind, buried deep beneath the sights they’d unintentionally shown to him. He was aware of the direction he was moving in, as well as how far he’d gone from home, but knew not if he’d ever be able to return to it. The cardinal points were easy to understand—north, east, south, west—and memorize, but once it got down to the specifics he lost track of everything. Where he needed to go, exactly, in order to return to the place that he’d left behind had become nothing more than a distant thought, a feeling that he couldn’t quite place. The farther he moved away from the only life he’d ever known the less he seemed to be bothered by it all, and the better he could focus on pushing forward with the duo he’d somehow managed to get himself involved with.

When the woman slowed, as did he, and with her had he then stopped, too. Without having someone to follow, Mazatl could not exist, the ability to take control of his own life being a skill that he’d never acquired. Always was it a woman that he followed, their word being something that he could not deny or speak out against. Should he had done so when younger, then surely would the Cihuāpilli have corrected him without hesitation. It was not his place to speak or act on his own, and so he didn’t—for the most part. The basics of life, the actions that were necessary for survival, were moves he could make, but nothing more. And so when the trio had chosen to rest, forward towards the water’s edge had he moved after Ksenia had gone away from it, his body so low that he might be mistaken for a thief, creeping towards his next mark.

As the other male had moved forward the Tētlauhtilli stopped, momentarily frozen in place. Only after the brute had moved into the water had his motion been continued, legs carrying him directly to the edge. The liquid held his attention as he lapped at it eagerly, pulling away and laying down on his stomach just as something was asked of the pale leader (as he'd decided her to be). Never had his eyes met the masculine form, his head having been turned and cocked to the side as he peered at the feminine one, awaiting her answer. He did not know where they were going or if he wanted to go along with them, but he knew that he could not leave without first having another to follow, and so there he remained; ensnared by his own habits and his inability to separate himself from his upbringing.

As answers were given, he'd listened carefully. By the time everything had been shared for all ears to hear, he'd found himself being sent off in order to scout out the area ahead. Without a single complaint, the boy had followed through with what he'd been instructed to do and left the siblings, heading off in order to complete the task he'd been assigned.

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