[He stays in the jungle for the first few days, has those that know where to find him, work to do besides. He brings the jungle into lush frenzy under his hands, echoing the feeling in his skull, a tribute and offering. The fever hums under his skin and he welcomes it, a respite from rationality and the constant conflict between boy and cat.]
{Dante suckles the last from a cigarette, ash and fire so close to his fingertips. His face is flushed, cheeks warm and colored. Dark eyes lighter, skin hot beneath his clothes. His body itches, inside and outside and all in between.}
[He tilts his head quietly, watches his fumbling with patience and soft amusement. Humans tongue is a wasted effort when he's fevered. He hums, yes, he remembers too. The man had thought he was beautiful.]
{She does not speak, but beneath the spiderweb tangle of blonde before her eyes, two roses bloom scarlet, hot and honeyed. He fingers play, all buzzing and busy, with the hem of her white dress.}
[She is not affected by her uncle. She is a different time. Surely the warm weather elates her, but she does not feel the fever that hisses in Aster's veins. She takes the girl's hands from the hem of her dress gently.]
[The soñando holds him above some of the effects of the world around him, but the anchor of his flesh is something he's always welcomed, part of why he chooses to earn money the way he does. He finds an appropriate street corner and building to lean against, pushes his hood back a little to feel the warmth beginning to cling to the night air.]
[He recognises the boy from Christopher's mind. The images of him had stirred up a few splinters of his own, but nothing solid. A longing, though, strong and bone deep. He pushes his hood back the rest of the way.]
[He smiles to recognized right away, he comes a little closer as the hood goes back, looks over the man's face affectionately. He keeps his distance so that he can make the effort to speak.]
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However you like, dear moth. I'm flexible.
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That's nice.
[Not so mean, Josie, be gentle with me now.]
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Oh... I. I remember you.
{Dante flicks the cigarette away; it bounces in a flurry of sparks. He crushes the cancer stick beneath the heel of his shoe.}
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Hello, Asteraceae.
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... H-hello, Connie.
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Are you worried?
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Jast?
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Hello, dreamchaser.
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hello
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Uh, hey, how's it going? Nice weather we've got going.
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