[ME] all around me are familiar faces

and I've only got my brittle bones to break the fall

Between the clothes and leather obtained from Henry and the weapons he's made for himself, Aamu is looking a bit less threadbare and dead, and slightly more prepared.

Which is kind of ironic, considering he's planning on being a dragon for as much of the time as he can. But still—better to have and not need, right? So he brings what he has: his freshly made sword hanging from his hip, the dagger Mabel gave him, whetstone safely packed into his bag, and his own throwing knives. Probably useless in taking down these would-be ascended abominations, but maybe he'd be able to distract someone with it. His hair is carefully braided and hangs down his back, stark white against his thin black coat.

Of course, he shows up rather hot on the heels of Mabel, though they did not leave the farm together. He felt like an intruder and left before her, waiting down by the settlement for her instead.

"Mabel," he greets her once he catches up, seeing Wessex down by the Barracks already. "Prepared?"

Aamu