Abomanita

Fenn had been on his way over to the community center when he spotted a face as friendly as it was familiar.

Anita was one of the folks he found himself actually liking. She was fun to tease, and her teasing in turn didn’t poke any particular nerves in him — though maybe it was just that he gave kids more leniency than adult folks. And she was so irrepressible. That reminded him a little bit of himself as a young moth. Though, when he spotted her all by herself on that bench, she seemed… he couldn’t put a word to it. Pensive, maybe, like she had something on her mind.

And seeing as the last time he properly saw her, she’d been crying her eyes about about the dumb, pink elementalist-loving guy having dumped her (though for good reasons), he felt just a tad obligated to check up on her.

“Hey kiddo! You seem a little underdressed for the weather,” he commented cheerfully as he fluttered on over, feet skimming the icy sidewalk. Despite being such an icy little fae himself, he was dressed up in his usual puffy coat — of course, the opposite comment could be made about him once summer came. He’d still be wearing that ragged, faintly-weed-smelling coat when the heat crept back into Manta Carlos. It was inevitable. “How’s things going for you? Taken any more cool powers lately?”

Best to keep conversation light. If he knew anything about Young Things and their problems, the issues were certain to spill out eventually.

Aaand bingo. Though, the issues had begun to tumble out a little more quickly than he had expected — and not to good effect. What had previously been an inkling of concern suddenly snowballed into a far greater worry.

Firstly, the coughing was not really a thing that healthy people did. Secondly — fights? That Anita hadn’t started? With who?

“Uhh, are you alright?” he asked, head and antennae quirked uneasily. The fae alighted on the ground, a patch of worrisomely jagged frost spreading outward from where his feet touched the sidewalk. “You ain’t looking so good. I mean, the coughing, that’s not great, and — like, who’s fighting you? I mean, I’m not big on fighting myself…” He’d probably turn into a sludgy black sauce on the pavement if he tried his hand at a brawl, but he figured he’d be clever enough to find… something to do to whoever was bugging her. “You get in fisticuffs with a plague demon or something?"

Fenn was, in fact, briefly irritated at being pushed aside by this complete tall, dark, mysterious stranger while mid-conversation with the kid, ears and antennae drawing back heatedly. Those appendages returned to a more neutral stance after Anita referred to the stranger as “Daddy”. Yeah, nevermind, the guy could barge in if he wanted.

“This your kid?” the fae asked, hesitantly stating the obvious.

Now, Fenn wasn’t exactly a snitch. He had no flippin’ idea whether Anita was the sort of kid to keep things from her parents, or whether she just sort of came clean about everything. Considering she’d been quick enough to mention fighting, though…

“Well, merry meet, then,” he said to the new guy, offering a frosty handshake once the squeezy hug let up. “Ani’s a decent kid. Think someone’s been roughing her up, though. Also, get her some, like, advil or something, and maybe yourself some too?” Was it alright for unearthly abominations to have advil? Did it even affect them? It was one of many questions Fennik had never anticipated asking himself before arriving on this wet rock of an island.

Fenn didn’t know anything about the “Anita’s dad” guy, but he somehow wasn’t terribly surprised about his reaction. Guy seemed excitable. And of course, what parent wouldn’t be concerned about their kid getting into fights? The fae did have the grace to blush when Anita shot him her glare, however.

“Y-y’think you should be doing that?” he said, startled eyes glancing down at the bit of black ooze sinking down into the snow. Probably just an eldritch thing. Probably. “I mean, magic can be kind of exhausting to use, in my experience. Sure you shouldn’t take a breath and lay down or something?”

Though Fenn didn’t say he was worried, the unnatural, snow-sparkling breeze ruffling his hair and wings said as much for him.