Home is where I want to be,
pick me up and turn me 'round

Lyra was finally becoming adjusted to life in Perfection. It wasn’t easy, but having some of his stuff back had helped to lift his mood considerably. It gave him more opportunity to help out around the community, so there had been more appreciation aimed toward him too. And with a couple more mouths to feed they needed more work pitched in. The new mouths came sauntering down the tunnels one day, an entertainer named Camus and the hunter he’d been traveling with, Garrick. They’d both dropped at the same time and had followed footprints from the drop point to the mountains, finding Perfection the easiest what with the trail they’d all left returning from the cargo drop.

Apparently new faces wasn’t unheard of around here, and it made a bit of sense. Lyra fell amongst their ranks after all, and he was grateful for the growing ranks making it easier for him to be ignored. That had been the plan, but it seemed as though he’d garnered Camus’ attention, the magician apparently perceiving Lyra’s awkwardness as some form of attraction to him.

He was used to people thinking that, but it was also usually easy to set people straight. Not so with Camus. The man seemed to think he was lying, and was paying him more attention Lyra thought was absolutely necessary.

So he’d started opting for surface tasks more, and getting snow and ice to melt down for water was a pretty important one. Fischer had given him a warm pelt in exchange for some custom carved bone tools, and Lyra hadn’t been able to express his gratitude enough.

Today he’d found himself accompanying the two hunters to the surface, and as they set off to search for food, he filled the sled with ice and water and pulled it back down to the town. He found himself singing softly as he descended, comfortable in the knowledge that no one would likely hear him until he got closer to Perfection. He was most of the way down when he spotted a strange shape in the darkness that he knew shouldn’t be there. His singing of an old rock tune ceased and he slowly approached the figure until the glow of the algae-lantern he was carrying fell upon the man.

“Hey, uh. You lost? O-or, are you here to, uh, to join the town? Or I mean, maybe you could just be visiting someone…” he finished lamely, eyeing the fellow up and down. It would probably have been better if any of the others had been this man’s first contact, instead of awkward Lyra, but nothing to be done for it now. “I can, y’know, show you the rest of the way down… if you want?”

feet on the ground, head in the sky || Qën

Home is where I want to be,
pick me up and turn me 'round

Okay, so the fellow was lost. That was easy enough to take care of, and Lyra gave him a hopefully reassuring smile at the comment, although it was still tinged with the buckets of awkwardness that he carried around every moment of his life. He’d just never been comfortable around other people, especially ones he didn’t know.

“Down there is Perfection. I-I mean, that’s the name of the colony, the place down there. Uhm. There’s nine of us right now, y’know, with me included.” He motioned for the man to follow him and began to lead the way down the tunnel, resuming pulling the sled filled with ice.

“I guess they settled down here because of the algae or something? The, uh, the glowy stuff,” he pointed at the lantern, “or maybe the space… I don’t know. I, uhm, I don’t talk to people much. Just overhear a lot. I’m still pretty new.” He felt his face get warm as he realized he was rambling a little bit, and instead tried to focus on avoiding the large pots that began popping up as they descended toward Perfection, each one filled with water and algae.

Soon they reached the gate of the colony, and the areas beyond were lit much more than the path down had been. The large lake that Lyra had mentally dubbed Radiance Lake, was casting its’ glow from the left once they were inside, and beyond that in the large cavern to their right came the red glow of the kilns.

“Uhm, I guess I should introduce you to Levi, he’s in charge…” Lyra trailed off, and continued down toward where the kilns were. “Oh, s-so you know, I’m Lyra.” They passed a few of the other inhabitants on the way who were checking for the darting worms (was that what they were called? That was the problem with not really talking to people, you only knew what you overheard) but were largely ignored.

As they rounded the corner toward the kilns, the area both brightened and warmed up a bit, and all of their houses came into view, as well as the Ursa pens and ‘The Castle’. What a name. “Levi’ll probably be in there,” Lyra mumbled, walking toward it.

feet on the ground, head in the sky || Qën