Adrius’ father is a hearth of a man. Bearing all the warmth of a crackling fire and the welcoming glow of a well-lit living room, he can draw a smile from even the most sullen mouths. It was on his father’s shoulder that Adrius drew strength. Even at his weariest, the bolstered shoulder of his father reenergized him. The kind memory of that love is what keeps him striding ever-forward, even if those steps are aimless and angry.
As the rain comes down on Adrius, he blinks slowly, drawing back his pace until he has come to a full stop. Water sparkles down the scales that never leave his body and the fins along his legs flex when he angles his head just enough to peer behind him.
Where are you going?
A sigh followed by a snort is Adrius’ initial response. He turns back around, shoulders tensing, and peers into his rain-blurred surroundings. There should be more fear in his heart for strangers in an unknown land, but mostly there is exasperation.
“Wouldn't you like to know?” Adrius calls back, turning his head just enough for Maurtia to see the hard lines of his face. He watches her through the single black eye angled in her direction, then spins in a slow circle to face the woman.
Unwilling to swallow his pride and admit he has no idea where he is, Adrius stands in silence, dark gaze flicking over the muted red and black hues of the stranger.
“Are you from here?” he finally concedes, hoping he might coerce his location from her without exposing his lack of knowledge. “I am leaving my home, if you must know,” he adds as an afterthought.