curving claws, restless heart

The mangrove is comfortable, shady, lovely. Pretty, the way the sunlight filters through the trees and dapples the ground. It's among the pretty landscape, that he finds himself settled, working out their next move. Getting a rough lay of the land and the weather, and sorting out just how they'd make themselves at home on this giant chunk of rock.

So much thinking would only serve to give him a headache in time. Coming up for air, coming up from his plans, Matija drifts to examine Idris's project instead. It's a curious inspection, careful, taking in the komodo dragon with narrowed eyes. As his brother cuts away the creature's hands, Matija seizes the carcass. Holds it carefully, holds it still. "Less wiggling, for you." Though he'd taken the less labor-intensive job, at least he could say he's helping.