Carnivore PV Kaegen Deathmote Finished

She was like clay. Clay that had just been set out to dry- she possessed an overall form, had her own beliefs, her own views of what was right, and what was wrong, but she was still pliable. She could still be pulled, bent, broken, and molded into something anew. She was just clay. She pondered what he meant by, more. More paths? More people? More monsters just like him? More creatures just like her? That brought another question to the light. Was she really walking her own path anymore? Had she even been walking one to begin with? Or had she suddenly derailed herself, to wander the shadowy road that he walked? Did she step on the butterfly?

The corner of her mouth twitched in response to theses thoughts; unsure if it should turn itself into a smile, or a sneer, or even a frown. It would choose to settle in a neutral position, lips partly pursed in some sign of mild frustration. She gave Kaegen a slow nod. Made enough sense. People were nothing more than mere pollywogs- little things that developed to live outside of the water- frogs. They didn't want to, but they had to if they wanted to survive. Xailah wanted to survive. So she adapted, just like everything else that wanted a fighting chance, in this poor excuse for a world. You grow, you adapt, and then eventually, you forget about what you once were. What you once could have been.

"No. Its sssomething. Definitely sssomething..." She let out a pensive hum, before shooting him a sleepy glare. "But I wont pry." Something was obviously not physically right. "No one is ever really, fine." She figured that Kaegen probably didn't know what was exactly wrong, seeing that there was- well, a lot wrong. That much could be seen. How could someone treat their body so carelessly? "This is the ssshell you were born in, you wont be getting another one. Take care of it while you ssstill have it." It was more of a mindless statement, than an offering of advice. She looked him down. Oily hair, dirty nails, tattered clothes. -A mere husk of what could have been a person. He didn't know how to take care of himself, did he? -Or maybe he simply didn't care to? "You don't-...nevermind." She huffed; a thin white wisp exited her parted lips.

She contemplated answering in an affirmative. Was she cold? Certainly. But was it a weak move on her part to admit to it? That is what she didn't know. So, she shook her head in denial- it didn't last long though, as she started to nod. There was no point in denying something that was obvious. "Yes. I feel cold. But feelings are temporary things." She shot the boy a lazy cats grin. "A little cold weather never hurt anyone. Besides we're almost to the castle." They were going to be arriving at their destination in a couple of minutes. She was going to be fine. She felt safe, she felt that her cat was safe- at least for the time being. In the end, that was all that mattered to her, really. "See?" She would fall silent yet again, as she pointed a slender finger in the direction of the crumbling building.

He had enough faith to listen, to watch as the girl seemed to ponder something for a while, before telling him that something was definitely off with him. He had dismissed her previous inquiry rather swiftly, but it was obviously not satisfying to the monster-girl. So, what was it, then? She had sharp eyes, maybe she saw something he didn't? His mind scanned his own body, looking for problems. He felt sore, he felt cold, he felt an odd stinging in his fingers, his eyes were far too heavy, his head felt foggy, and light. He had bruises covering his torso, and some on his stomach. But nothing too unusual. Just the usual amount of aches and pains.

She clarified, a little bit, telling him that his body, his shell was the only one he was going to get. That if he broke it he wouldn't get another one. He knew that, didn't he? Why would she point it out, unless there was something clearly wrong with his shell. It was only after the boy had slowed his erratic movements forward that it dawned on him, maybe she was referring to the coughs? That was a sign of sickness, after all, it was a fairly widely accepted symptom. But he didn't get sick, sick was for people who could afford an illness.

"The cough? That comes and goes, it's just-"

Kaegen noticed he was beginning to fall behind, and put on a little burst of speed to keep up. It should have been easier, and indeed it would have been, had he decided to stay on the path and walk in a straight line.

"...I don't know. But, it will go eventually."

She started to formulate a thought, but then thought better of it. The small segment of a statement was enough to focus his hazy mind once more, curiosity bringing itself up from the small closet of the ravenclaw's mind that he still allowed it to reside in. From nearly half his actions being governed by curiosity and a bright desire to learn to this small sliver. It was a torch that was on it's last legs, suffering nearly three years at Hogwarts.

Kaegen took a deep breath, hitching slightly as he suppressed another cough. Yes, they were almost there. He had also noticed that she had almost said no. That was something he thought he understood, but wasn't sure. Was she hiding something from him, or had she just reflexively denied the cold. Kaegen's mind tried to empathize, tried to connect with the reasoning of this person who he thought of as being similar to him. And there was something in there that he did see, some little bit of self awareness that decided what she had done was something he might have done. But beyond that, that she had chosen truth over an instinct, a reflexive denial of discomfort.

"It's hard to walk your own path, and even when you do, I'm not sure if it's worth it. You have to be careful where you make it, or you may follow your own path in circles through a woods that won't let you go. Feelings are temporary, and that's usually good, but sometimes, I think it means you can't retrace your steps. Do you know where you've been?"

As they approached the side door, Kaegen spoke up again, almost as an afterthought, much more quietly than he had anything else.

"...I'm cold too"

The cough... the cough would go, yes. Nothing was permanent. The cough would probably take him eventually, if he let it go long enough. Was it worth worrying about? Was he worth worrying about? No. Not entirely. But for now- in this moment, she could play pretend. She leaned against the frame of the door, her shoulder digging into the dense wood, pushing the door open just a hair. "I think I know where I've been- like to think I do, at least." She bit down hard, on the fleshy inside of her cheek. "Sssometimes I'm not sure if I'm remembering things I actually felt, or just ones I desired to feel." Her unfocused gazed bounced to a empty space, just above the boys frail shoulder.

"The mind can be a cruel thing." She absentmindedly rose a thin, inquisitive eyebrow. Her mouth drew itself into a thin line. Mild discontentment. She fell silent, mind filling itself with thoughts of nothing in particular. Her head mostly just buzzed with tired static, and hazy, meaningless images- clouded memories of what her brain had stored during the day. "Its good that you're cold-" Her cloudy stare narrowed, into one of uncertainty. "....-I mean, its good that you can feel the cold. You can ssstill feel. You're ssstill alive."

Beneath the cold, bruised flesh, and weathered exterior, there was still something human in this boy. And whatever it was, it was small, and it was dying. She blinked, coming out of her brief trance. Her eyes found their way back to the Ravenclaws cold stare. She pushed the door she was leaning against, open, with her back. "You know, sssometimes you can't help but walk down your own path. You might try to ssstray- try to follow different paths but... eventually you'll end up walking your own once again."

She motioned down to the beastie cradled in her arms. "Like him. He is domesticated, he tries to walk a civil path. But at heart he's a carnivore, a creature that kills. He can't help what he is." She stood silently in the doorway. It was time for them to part. "Well. This is where I must leave you. Perhaps we will meet again in the future?" She bobbed her head towards him, her dark locks moving with the motion. She would turn away from him, before glancing over a slender shoulder. "Also, thank you. I mean it." It was a genuine thank you. A rare thing for the metamorph to reciprocate. "Take care Deathmote."