don't know how to live

The familiar weight of the wooden door against his narrow shoulder as he pushed it aside, ushered his guest into his home with a small gesture of an outstretched forepaw. Two-toned eyes roved over the lines of his figure idly, absently. As though memorizing the sight of him for posterity. The inward curve of nervously hunched shoulders, the slope of his neck as the blond male slipped past, and the sway of his tail against his heels. Every time he encountered Emile, there was something new to catalogue, a tidbit to tuck safely in a chest for later. It was like greed, the way he stole little glances and devoured the scent of him. Was this infatuation? Lust? Hard to say, he'd been such a reclusive figure his whole life that he had yet to allocate much of his time to the whims of impulse and desire.

"Pollux, the kettle please." he crooned to the tamarin that he knew was lingering just out of sight, and slowly eased the door shut behind the other man. "Allow me to give you the grand tour," he said next, turning his attention back to his guest with a soft smile. Just like that, he fell into the familiar paths that took him about the shrine's main building. Just beyond the entrance was the low firepit that he'd finally restored, carefully sculpted clay and mud in a rough circle to contain the constantly burning embers. In the evenings and winters, some of the coals were shoveled beneath the floors to keep the paws warm. "I supposed you would call this the indoor shrine, most prayer and worship happens here." he explained quietly, making a point to walk as close to the male as he could, rubbing shoulders and brushing legs as they moved. He tipped his muzzle towards the dugout shelves full of oils and salves and herbs, alongside a few rescued relics.

He moved them along to the next room, where he (and once, his entire family) slept. "Sleeping area, which you are welcome to make use of if you do not have plans to return home immediately." he cast a carefully neutral look towards Emile, hoping to see some type of reaction that might grant some insight into the other man's reason for visiting. Similarly, it might let him temper his own enthusiasm that he might have a real, proper guest to entertain for the afternoon and evening (.. and night?). He dared not linger in the arch of the doorway for too long, lest he be accused of some manner of lechery.

Turning back from whence they'd come, Pontifex led the way through the central antechamber and back to the entryway. "The storehouses are on the other side of the clearing, but I don't think you'd have much interest in seeing those." he said mirthfully, flashing a grin at Emile. Instead, he led the way off to the right, where the delicate aroma of herbs wafted from a small firepit set against the far wall. A few cushions were scattered about the room, predominantly arranged in a pile near the firepit where Pontifex settled down to work most days. "Ah, a spiced tea today? A fine choice, Pollux." he commented idly, standing aside so that Emile could enter the kitchen-apothecary. "Thank you, Pon." the dark furred primate said quietly, making no excuses as he openly stared at their guest. After a moment, the tamarin scampered off through the doorway, leaving the pair to their own devices.

"This is the kitchen, though I do most of my work here as well. Please, make yourself comfortable." he murmured gently, gliding through the space and rearranging the furs and cushions so that Emile could sit. There was a quiet giddiness in the swift movements of the dark male, an unspoken excitement to have company- and such desirable company, at that. As he collected two of his least-chipped bowls for tea, he couldn't help the slight wag of his tail and pricked ears.

Finally he was settled, arranged neatly on his cushions and pouring the tea. He made a point to keep focused on the task at hand when he asked what had been on his mind the entire time. "What brings you so far from home today, love?" the words escaped him a bit breathlessly, though he endeavoured to hide his curiosity behind an intense focus on not spilling from the pot. Cloves, cinnamon bark, and peppercorns were mixed with the dried tea leaves in this mixture, and it was one of his favourites in the winter when the distinct earthiness was long gone from the woods around him.

"Pontifex" || "Hallux" || "Pollux"