ECHO, ECHO — OPEN

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    Titan had been in BloodClan for several days now, and he hadn't gotten out much. Part of it was because he had been stuck healing in the medic's quarters, but another part of it was because he was simply... hidden away. Reserved. Whether or not it was obvious by the way he cloaked himself and hid his true features behind a mask, he wasn't the most social of creatures. Perhaps he had been earlier in his life, but that was the old him. The part of him that was dead to him. The Titan that was no more. Now, he had plenty of secrets stored within his brain, and it would take one hell of an effort to break his barriers. The male was secretive and mysterious, and it wasn't very likely that anyone would be able to read him like an open book.


    Seeing as the snow leopard was recovering from his wound on his hind leg, he was now allowed back outside. Not that he really wanted to be outside. The medics simply needed the space that he was occupying, and now he had to just.. sit around. Titan held no high rank in this group, and therefore he wasn't really obliged to do anything. He was just a wanderer, after all, and as soon as he felt like he could actually walk for a few paces then maybe he'd pick up where he left off. He'd be sent on his way, nothing standing in his path. Titan felt a little uncomfortable though, being around so many people. It had been months since he had lived in a clan, and now it was like he couldn't get a moment of solitude. Friendly chatter, casual conversation, games, events... it was almost overwhelming for the snow leopard.


    Titan sat outside the medical quarters quietly, his gaze fixed onto the floor. He wasn't quite sure on what to do at the moment. He had already eaten and he didn't feel well enough to go exploring the territory, so he was just left here to do nothing. This was fine, considering he wasn't talking to anyone. Yes, just some peace and quiet would do.


     —  Dantalion had also been injured, but he made no effort to rest and let himself heal. Pain was not a hindrance to him unless it physically kept him from moving. The demon relished in it, in fact, in some strange, borderline masochistic way. He never bothered to lay down or keep the pressure off his broken leg, despite the warnings that it wouldn't heal properly. There was some concern because he was so old, too, a body that should have died of heart disease or been shot a few years ago, and yet there the walking corpse was, walking on aching feet towards Titan with a hard, bloodshot stare. He had no air of importance around him - if anything, he just smelled like a carcass and looked like a zombie, although less green. His stomach growled as he approached, but the doberman ignored it with a snort.


    Like Titan, he had also more or less lived a life of solitude. He spent most of his time cooped up in a lovely place most knew as Hell, and being in this world felt like such a relief to the great duke of hell. He could only describe it as "stretching his legs" because in a way, that's what it was. He rarely came to earth on his own accord, he had no reason to other than being summoned or commanded to by someone who held more power than he did. What was there to do up here? Well, a lot of things, he had learned. Things changed so much since the 17th century and he was honestly a little shell-shocked that he hadn't been sent back to where he came the second these BloodClanners realized he was... out of the ordinary.


    "Good afternoon," Dante greeted as he finally came to a stop, taking a seat in front of the leopard whether he had been invited to or not. "I do not believe we've met. What might they call you?" Eyes suddenly focusing on the male's injuries, his flat expression turned into something different but still incomprehensible, a mix of amusement and curiosity flashing in his eyes. "What happened to you?"


    There was still that roiling conflict Croc had whenever he saw the snow leopard. It confused him, but didn’t frighten him. After all, Titan killing him wasn’t the worst thing ever — except that he’d killed some of his friends, too. Normally Croc shouldn’t have made such attachments. He didn’t actually feel emotions so much as he portrayed them to the rest of the world. He was a different person inside than he was on the outside. Still, these were companions he’s grown to know. And now they were gone.


    He vowed to pretend this guy was a stranger, though. He didn’t want drama, he didn’t want trouble. Maybe he’d confront the guy someday, but not right now. Not today. Crocodile tail slithering behind him, the white canid offered a faint smile to the injured feline, tilting his head. ”I don’t believe we’ve met, either. I’m Crocodiletears, or Croc for short.”  

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    -- Alsanna--

    Alsanna had only met the strange mask wearing individual once, namely when he had first arrived here. After that Titan had slipped off of her radar slightly, which was a little concerning considering how much time the small child spent wandering the territory. It probably wasn't very safe for somebody so young and frail to spend most of her time exploring, but after trailing behind Hypokrisis and Solveig on a regular basis her knowledge of the cursed grounds Bloodclan resided on was quite extensive. As she spotted the large feline with a few of her other clanmates, a gentle smile briefly graced her features but only for a moment. It soon settled into something which almost resembled a smile, but not quite.


    It made sense for her not to find him if he had been with the medics and physicians of the clan - she tended not to enter the places which they worked. Only with Hypo did the black and white kit find herself in a place so familiar with the dead and dying. Yet, it was not because he had so recently emerged which had caused her soft expression to fade slightly. No, it was the look he wore. Now, Alsanna wasn't very experienced when it came to picking up the tiny details of social intercourse, however that face was one she was familiar with: solitude, and the desire to be left in silent company. And yet, she approached anyway. The kit was often worried about the well-being of all her clanmates even if she didn't know them very well, and with a gentle mewl she took a seat nearby hoping to pick up on his answer to the question Dantalion had posed.

    -- Fear is a reasonable response to life / Tags / Plot --


    It wasn't that Dantallion or Titan had shown to be murderous beings or anything of the sort- simply two injured men that had shown up at variable times at their borders- but she couldn't help herself from trailing closely behind Alsanna as she made her way closer to the group of gathering men as they all spoke, in kind, to Dantallion in some way. Her violet gaze swept over the gathering of people, and though her expression held nothing but a warm smile, anyone even akin to Solveig's nature would know she was calculating them quietly, before she would dip her head slowly in respect, before gathering her feet beneath her to sit besides her little Alsanna, flicking her tail to draw it around the kitten's side. "It's good to see you all on your feet," she would offer quietly after a few moments, but then her voice would fall from their minds, silent as the rest of them had already posed enough questions for them to answer.

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