[There's no sense of settling, no indication of quietened minds despite the fact that between the two of them she believes them to have spoken to nearly every newly hatched host - but that's often the way of things in the beginnings. New hosts grow louder before they learn to be quiet, shout more than they do listen. It has never mattered what they say or what they don't say; a period of adjustment is inevitable, no matter the willingness of the hosts in question.
Still, he is easy enough to find under the din of new minds: a familiar, persistent quiet like her own shadow. When she knows herself to be finished, Cathaway runs a mental finger across the imagined nape of his neck. She is leaving the bridge, it says. Stay put.
It doesn't take her long to navigate the station; it opens itself for her and sinks shut in her wake. Today, this hour, she finds the most direct path because it pleases her to do so. This is not the day for walking in circles as she suspects by now he has little patience remaining - can sense it in the threadiness of his mind, even if the exact sensation is kept quiet and distance from her. She turns a corner and passes then through the doorway to the training wing; Cathaway's version of a beeline from it to him is slow, easy, the charms at her waist and wrists jingling pleasantly.]
no subject
Still, he is easy enough to find under the din of new minds: a familiar, persistent quiet like her own shadow. When she knows herself to be finished, Cathaway runs a mental finger across the imagined nape of his neck. She is leaving the bridge, it says. Stay put.
It doesn't take her long to navigate the station; it opens itself for her and sinks shut in her wake. Today, this hour, she finds the most direct path because it pleases her to do so. This is not the day for walking in circles as she suspects by now he has little patience remaining - can sense it in the threadiness of his mind, even if the exact sensation is kept quiet and distance from her. She turns a corner and passes then through the doorway to the training wing; Cathaway's version of a beeline from it to him is slow, easy, the charms at her waist and wrists jingling pleasantly.]
A good hatch. There are many we like.