It pleased Snaeha that her friend seemed to agree with her statement. Whenever she had shared the same opinion with others - especially her proud mother and older brother - they disagreed, and argued that the God of Illusions was no more than a mean prankster. But Snaeha thought quite the opposite; it was a great responsibility to uphold illusions, maybe even a selfless one. Individuals depended on Ionu's work to keep their lives together, to upkeep those illusions of their selves to protect the real thing. Everything, from simple make up to great mysteries, added to the illusion of life one way or another, and the more Snaeha considered this, the more she realised just how great appreciate she held for Ionu.
She turned to speak to Aranta, but her worlds dissolved into a quiet giggle. The Zith certainly looked...
wet.
"We might be able to find something for you to use to dry yourself," she suggested, her bright amethyst eyes filtering down his body to admire the dampness of his fur. A gentle hand was laid on his chest, near his wound. His bandage, despite getting wet, had actually stayed put fairly well so it was unlikely to need redressing. The fur underneath Snaeha's hands felt peculiar, almost like damp velvet. How he intrigued her!
As they exited the cavern, Snaeha noticed that even more people had gathered together than before their search. Clearly the child had not been found, and panic had settled amongst the Symenestra people. Even with their grey complexions, they looked ashen with worry.
"I wonder what'd happened." She murmured, the traces of fear edging her voice.
.