It'd been so long since the three entered any kind of human establishment, it was as if the world had evolved without them. Prim and proper peoples lined the streets dressed in foreign silks and floral headwear, waving sturdy looking canes around as they were chauffeured by horse drawn carriages. And with the way Iria and the boys were dressed, the contrast made it look like the three were practically begging to be punished as the bums they dressed like.

Her lips trembled. "I change my mind- let's go back to the forest. I can stand sleeping on the ground for another few months-"

"Will you relax?" Zoi's hands firmly wrapped around her thin shoulders, edging the young adult to push further into the man-made jungle. He scoffed. "We'll be fine."

The white haired youth pulled over the hood on his jacket, attempting to keep a low profile as both his siblings could wander around inconspicuously, if they were only dressed the part. Zoi could pass off for a farmer's son while Iria looked noble enough to be a politician's daughter- and what did Deito look like to the rest of the world? A peculiar albino (even though he wasn't) that could be spotted half a mile away. Manbeasts ranged from all natural mammalian colors spanning from black to white with every brown in between. Just because Deito's natural fur color was white while his brother's was black made it all the more obvious that he wasn't normal.

He followed quietly as both his adoptive siblings bickered about lodging and money as if they were old spouses. Even if his dimwitted and headstrong brother couldn't see it, it was obvious to Deito that Zoi was in favor to being Iria's manbeast. In no time at all Deito would be out of the picture, watching from afar as the woman he's come to love is in the hands of another, leaving the white coated manbeast to wish his two best friends the luck they deserve, after Zoi grew the balls to confess of course.

"Deito?" Iria looked up at the younger male with concern. His eyes blinked wide before he realized they made their way into an old tavern made for traveler's lodging, drinking and socializing making noise from the basement-made-bar while the weary were residing on the second floor, the ground floor serving as the barrier between the two.

The rooms weren't 5 star material to say the least, but it offered the necessities and gave off a homely feeling. Iria threw herself on one of the two beds and sprawled herself across the sheets in sheer joy, claiming the little island as her own while the two boys would share a bed- not that that was anything new. "Where'd you get the money from?" Deito asked as he removed childhood and took a seat on the springy mattress.

His brother spouted words thoughtlessly before Iria had the chance to open her mouth. "Geeze, where the hell were you the whole day?"

"Zoi!" The raven haired beast shrunk back. "We sold the fish we caught earlier, don't you remember?" She looked concerned. Like the older sister she saw herself as.

Deito tackled halfheartedly, putting on a bright smile for his siblings. "Oh, that's right." Like this he would surely slip from his state of mind, drifting in and out steadily until he snapped and went insane. He could feel it all brewing in his chest. Even if Iria chose to save Deito now instead of his brother, it was much too late. The cursed red string of fate already bound Zoi and she; there was no longer any room for Deito.

After a light meal and more bickering between Iria (about sleeping as a beast rather than the 17 year old man he claimed to be), the trio called it a night. Zoi selfishly took up the entirety of their bed (per usual) while Deito calmly enjoyed the company of the two unconscious companions in the dark. But he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. There was just too much on his mind as is.

He slowly roused from the creaky bed, trying his hardest not to awaken Zoi. The black colored youth only tossed in his sleep, mumbling something about the food they had no money for. As much as it pained him to keep secrets from his siblings, Deito had been hoarding some of the money they managed to make in order to find the right opportunity to leave, to attempt supporting himself without the other two. As of now, he had just over enough for those fancy new machines known as trains. Rumor had it, that in a far off mountainside there was an emerging town consistent of only manbeasts, and sooner or later that is where he planned to go.

But tonight he needed the stress released ever mortal tastes once in their life. Deito quietly headed down both flights of stairs to the noisey tavern in waiting. Same as before he had to wear the hood for worse-case scenario predictions, but the underground was so dark it was a wonder why he needed the fur thing to begin with.

The entirety of the bar buzzed with sound, enough to make Deito's normally composed self restless and agitated. Every time he tried to move there was someone to bump into. And to make matters worse, everyone down here knew at least one other person, emphasizing Deito's own stranded persons to himself.

He quietly took a place on a barstool, leaning forwards and ordering a glass of whiskey. In the candlelit darkness of the room he could barely make out the face of his only neighbor, sitting just as solitary as he.

The man was short- rather, puny- with dark, finely cropped hair that barely touched the base of his ears. He was covered neck to toe in dark clothing, not even his hands were spared exposure. No blemishes to mark up his unusually perfect features of a slender jawline and long lashes. The night haired man couldn't have been much older than Iria, and looked as if he were foreign.

When the thin man glanced over to the youth, Deito found himself averting his eyes. How peculiar. Other than Iria, he found humans both boring and useless. They were good for nothing but war, and even then they failed miserably at that. But...

As soon as the man's gaze left him, Deito resumed staring out of the corner of his eye as he downed the liquor. Maybe this was just another sign he was going insane. There was a thirsty feeling in his throat the liquid couldn't quench. It was a strange desire, like he could eat up the small man in one bite if he just had the balls to turn into a beast in public. Deito silently pursed his lips together and released his hold on the frail looking man. It didn't matter. He'd long since noticed the blades the dark haired man was carrying. Most likely a trained assassin of sorts, no doubt. He definitely carries the air.

"What an unusual color." Deito looked back up at the stranger. In the palm of his glove were a few strands of Deito's white hair, the loose ones. He could feel the color draining from his face. "Why so quiet? You were staring me down so hard just a few seconds ago, I thought I might catch on fire." His voice wasn't nearly as high pitched as Deito imagined. Instead it was rather raspy... nasely? It was hard to tell with the buzzing of minglers. Regardless, it still hit the youth as though he'd been suffocating and this was the precious air he'd been looking for.

He didn't know. Maybe he was drunk. "Sorry." He choked back the feeling of his own voice cracking.

"My name is Kilam. And yours?" The older man placed his head in his hands as he waited for a response.

The manbeast swallowed the lump in his throat. For years now he wasn't allowed to socialize with the normal, as if he had any reason or desire to. His tribe warned him of the ways of man. Of their destructive nature and selfish ways. Even Iria was apprehensive around her own kind.

"... Deito."

/AN: warning

This will most likely turn gay within the first half of the next chapter/