yaris 19, 2719 - in the evening
The notion of other passives attending a university alongside their former kin was still so absurd, and he wasn't certain that he'd wrapped his head around it entirely. It didn't seem possible for a place like Thul'Amat and a place such as Brunnhold to exist in the same world, not with how differently they did things - all of Mugroba, apparently, sounded like a fantasy compared to Anaxas. He wished to one day see it, but didn't allow himself that hope. Even if he managed to travel, surely the entire kingdom would crumble to dust before he reached it.
Lars had at least bothered to bathe before leaving home, figuring that if he was to embarrass himself with matters of reading and poetry then he was at least to be clean and look alright doing it, even if he'd not bothered to shave the stubble from his face (and that fact was bothering him immensely now, the passive still quite unused to the sensation). He'd dressed himself plainly, not looking to stand out or catch attention, in a cream-colored linen shirt and the dark brown trousers he'd taken off of -
Well, he couldn't recall what he'd done to him, nor could he remember his name, but the trousers were nice, and a bit soft to the touch. It made him realize just how much the days had started to blend and blur together, now that he'd gotten relatively used to it all.
Complete with his old, worn-out shoes from Brunnhold and the earrings he'd acquired a few weeks before, Lars had set out to find Aremu. Figuring that Quarter Fords was a good enough place to start, the passive wandered the now-familiar streets, breathing in the warm evening air and the scent of the sea. There was just enough of a breeze to almost (almost) give him a chill, his hair still damp against his head, and Lars was happy to be out and about rather than back at the Mad Queen, where he typically spent such evenings.
He's going to think we're moony, looking for him like this.
"We're just trying to learn something, that's all," he whispered, eyes darting between passing faces. "It's not as if we're trying to kill him."
You say that now. We don't know how he's going to react.
No, he didn't know, but he didn't think he had to. Lars didn't need to know Aremu that well to know that he was a kind man. Honorable, even, and he wasn't unaware of the irony.
Lars moved through the dwindling evening crowd of the market, pale gaze sweeping across and over and everywhere else in his search for the imbala.