The reunion with his mother had drained him. He was exhausted yet wired; wound so tight that his inner workings threatened to burst through his seems and stain the grass with abandonment issues and aimless rebellion. How he had managed the encounter without devolving into a sticky puddle of neediness or bitter tears was beyond him. Maybe his lack of a meltdown was proof that he was toughening up and becoming what he was meant to be. All too likely, it was, perhaps, a sign that his heart was hardening further. Valentine's eyes narrowed as he pushed the introspective thoughts aside. The last thing he needed was to get all butthurt over something so trivial. Usually he was pretty good at glossing over such thoughts when they struck him, so why he was still struggling with mulling them over was beyon- Bingo. Turning his head, the boy stared daggers at the pile of leaves that lay beside him. He was going to blame them. They were the only thing that was different and even though that was the point of them, the effects they were having weren't the ones he had been hoping for. Valentine had been desperate for some emotional relief after talking to his mother and so he'd sought out a plant that was good for calming nerves. A rogue had introduced him to them after he'd taken up wandering and while he wouldn't call his desire to eat them an addiction, he'd taken up using them like a crutch to mellow out his rocky moods. Closing his eyes, Valentine rolled onto his side and stretched, savoring the contented feeling that came with the action. He tried to let his mind wander, determined not to think about his problems or baggage, or whatever else felt like cropping up and plaguing him. Girls. His mind urged him. Think about girls. "Speaking" Thinking

There was nothing deliberately sultry about Cascade's walk, but rather a cheery head-bobbing prance as she made her way along the ravine outside the area claimed as Arcanum's. She'd yet to decide if she wanted to actually join the pack - she'd not seen much to impress her in the short time she'd been there as Niflheim and she hadn't been particularly impressed when she had approached them again when Cataleya laid claim to the lands. Sure there was that male who claimed to be Neios' older brother and by extension her older brother but... she couldn't remember ever having an older brother. If she'd ever met him, or heard him mentioned it was buried in the haze created by long, long seasons wandering alone. She was disinclined to believe it unless she heard it from Neios, and as yet she'd been unable to find him. Plus, she'd been afflicted with some odd disease that she'd as yet been too embarrassed to seek a healer for... a strange, itchy, achy heat in her private areas, and she'd been sulking a bit about it. She'd never had the issue before she'd joined a pack, so someone there must have passed it to her. Very, very unfair. But helloooo what was this? Mismatched eyes brightened in interest as she came into sight of the big, big boy lolling around on the ground. Giggling softly under her breath, she frisked up to the boy, who couldn't have been more than a few months younger than her. Her tail wagged with polite interest, as she eyed him with more than polite interest. "Hello, stranger," she purred. "What are you up to all alone?" She raised a brow suggestively at the plant he was apparently chewing on, her muzzle quirked in an amused half-smile.

The boy took to grazing like a cow, mindlessly chewing leaves while letting his fickle mind flip through fantasies. He briefly wondered if it were possible to eat too much of the plant--pausing mid chew as the enormity of that prospect struck him--and then shrugged it off because meh, the dead gave no fucks and neither would he if he joined their ranks. The sounds of an approach roused the young titan from his fantasy induced stupor. His head would tilt to the side, the skyward eye opening to peer at whoever was encroaching on his solo flight. Far from annoyed, Valentine would regard the stranger with a bland expression--an expression that quickly brightened into amusement as her eying was noticed. She would offer him a greeting and a sly question, and Valentine would sit up, allowing his expression to blank in mock seriousness. "Certainly nothing illicit, like any good denizen." He would hold the faux righteousness for a moment before the thinnest of smirks would begin to pull up the corners of his mouth. "Speaking" Thinking