There's something strange in the bamboo. Several somethings, several strange somethings. Born strange, he'd die strange, and everything else in between? That would be strange too. The boy wove his way through the maze, doing what he could to commit each stalk to memory. It grew so quickly, giving the impression that it was a living, breathing entity too. That was true enough. Living. Breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Right. He had to remind himself of that, too. Breathing manually. Erik was... breathing manually? And still, he could taste it. The slow, steady, raw ooze of blood at the back of his throat. Hell, he can always taste it. That shit doesn't go away. It gets worse, sure. Sometimes it gets better. Worse. Mostly worse. That's fine. He wanders through the tall bamboo shoots, orange eyes glimmering in the low light that the cloudy afternoon seemed to cast all around. His shadow was long now, and would only grow longer. Not always sticking to the path, the boy finds it more comforting to tuck away within it. Hidden, but was he hiding? Maybe. Maybe not. It would depend on who asked.

Akito knew that some of his siblings had… issues. Mother wasn’t exactly appreciative when he questioned about that. Those were things she didn’t have answers to and when he saw the way her face twisted with emotion he knew he had pushed too far. Yet, he thought about them often and wondered often if they were okay. Would they be able to live life like him or would they always be different? Were they just sick or were they diseased? The young pup had already spent what little life he had lived learning, asking, engulfing every bit of knowledge he could grasp. So that day in the bamboo, he had not expected to really see anyone else. He had wandered toward a far corner that was not often walked. Someone would patrol it at least once a day. That much he could tell by the lingering scent along the stalks of bamboo. And unfortunately, the wind was not in his favor either. Whenever he lifted his nose to take in a scent, it would shift and blow away from him. His brow would furrow in frustration. Someone was here though, he just knew it. The dirt beneath him had been disturbed recently. There was bits of hair stuck to couple young shoots. But where? Lowering his body and allowing his hackles to raise, the young pup stayed alert. His monochrome gaze flitted between each bamboo stalk. Searching the shadows, looking for differences in the darkness. Edging closer and slinking through somewhat small gaps, he was determined to find whoever it was that was here.

The bamboo. The bamboo is a home for him. The bamboo speaks to him, creates shadow, creates safety. There is so much of it, and there is so little of him. It's one of the few things that makes Erik feel well and truly small. Through that smallness, he feels safe. Safe, protected... though he isn't alone here. Erik knows better than to think that he could be alone here. Still, this is different. There is something different, more intense coursing through his system. Like his body knows before he is. Someone is hunting him. Hunting. The corners of his eyes, he knows there's someone here. Erik's head lowers, shoulders hunch. He sticks close to the shadows, tracing each one with his gaze. Sticking close to the comfort that they provide. He is comforted, he is quieted. Each step is more careful than the next, and he moves as soundlessly as he possibly can. One foot in front of the other. If he took enough space, maybe he'd be able to hide. Maybe he'd be able to lay in wait for whoever, for whatever it was. Still, there's not enough of that space yet. One foot. Another. Doing his best to be quiet, to be hard to track. Keeping keen notes on his surroundings, trying to figure out just who was out there.

It is as if he is a shadow of the bamboo. Hard to see but easy to maneuver. He knows someone else is there. Pressed tightly against the stalks, just barely evading his sight. This one must also live among the bamboo and be around his size and shape. Brother? Morg? Someone else that was small? Fuji, perhaps? His nose turns up and his ears flick from one side to the other. No, it is male, it has to be. So not Morg, not Fuji, not Kiriko. There isn’t many females so that doesn’t narrow it down much.

Ah, there. He freezes with his mouth open slightly to help his breathing stay impossible to hear. There, just slightly, he hears a rock shift against the dirt. A ruffle of some grass as a body careens around the bamboo. He’s getting closer. Darting forward, Akito stays close to the ground as he pushes through the shadows. Brushing by the thick stalks of bamboo, he charges toward the sound before stopping on a dime. His paws pushing down into the earth as his body lurches forward.

It is gone now but he knows he is close. Lowering his nose back toward the ground, he continues to creep forward once more. He will find this other… He knows he will.

"speech"