While he usually needed to be in his cat form if he wanted to pick up more sensitive sounds, and the bandana impaired his hearing greatly, Kale could practically hear her heartbeat firing like a gazelle’s during a hunt. Her words, however, and now the fact that she stared at him with such a look of conviction in her eyes he half-wanted to turn away, made that little weed practically rip apart any shred of doubt he had left.
This was a girl from another world.
Though he knew how much the admittance would cost him, Kale stared back her just as evenly, golden eyes flat and determined, and finally said, “Yes.”
It almost felt as though some part of himself had been freed with those words; had his subconscious really known all this time that he was deluding himself?
Always trust your instincts, his grandfather had told him, time and time again, and he’d thought he’d learnt and understood that lesson – obviously not. Silently, he promised to himself that he’d learn to trust that side of himself that was more connected to the wild cat he housed within his body.
His world completely faded to the tools he had in front of him and the tiny gears laid in the bird he created. The delicate piece of machinery had been his side project for the past few weeks, and it was finally, thankfully, almost done. He’d just need a few things from Roman before he was to properly complete it, but as it stood the tiny steamwork bird was essentially finished.
Distractedly, he moved through the tiny space, knowing almost instinctively where not to put his foot down lest he accidentally hit any of the teetering towers of metal that rested everywhere. He wanted some place to sit and work, but as Maria had taken the bed and he didn’t particularly feel like having someone invade his personal space, the teenaged Vent citizen was trying to find a spare patch of wall with enough light to let him work by.