Al-Qahil was way too hot for his taste. His clothes weren't made for this kind of weather and he for sure wasn't going to dress like whatever they were wearing here. He was proud of his heritage and if that ment dying of heat in this God forsaken city, then so be it. And it was so busy here as well. Too many people, too many things to see and do and hear and smell. It was overpowering and Castor could feel his head finding it harder and harder to grasp the reality that was around him. So when the opportunity arose for him to slip into a more silent, shadowed alleyway, he did so.

No one knew him here anyway. Well... except for a few. But those few weren't around right now and that was for the better. He didn't like being seen as weak. He was an Aerendyl, for fuck sake. He needed and wanted to carry that with pride. But being stuck in an alleyway, trying to calm his breathing, wasn't quite as prideful as he wanted it to be. Castor took a deep breath and tried to focus on the wall in front of him. Usually that helped, but not today, it seemed. Maybe it was because there were so many impressions already made, and so many more to come. How was he going to handle the next couple of days? How he loathed his life. Here in this beautiful city, where he could do whatever he wanted, with the most beautiful person travelling with him, with leisure and pleasure at his fingertips. And what did he do? Sit in an alley, stare at a wall, feel overwhelmed and be grumpy about it. Classic Castor.