[img=http://i.imgur.com/UPINOf1.png]

[b][u]Thaum's Square:[/b][/u]

Lute was entranced with the little capybara, and was now associating Kapi with his sibling. Maybe he should borrow the cutie and then present him to his sister. Now that the topic was raised: how would Ruana act if she saw something cute? Well, her cheeks would probably flush a light pink, and she’d smile. Maybe reach out to pat Kapi if it was a good day. No squealing or anything violent whatsoever. Not like him, really. He’d screech and steal the capybara, screaming “FREEDOM!” as he ran through the streets with the tiny creature in his arms; much like what he almost did with the blobfish if he/she wasn’t eaten, to be honest.
Sometimes Lute thought he was adopted.

He was interrupted from his unabashed capybara staring when Lisette stirred. His eyes immediately flicked away from Kapi and fell upon a familiar form approaching the Pride, and he had to blink a few times before he realized just who it was. The virtuoso got up and smiled at Atlas, but the cheery expression faded quickly when his friend shifted away from the Pride and turned towards him instead. In all his years with Atlas there had never been much of a silence; the few times such a situation happened were when Atlas met Robin and/or the two of them were being chastised by Lute’s sister/one of Atlas’s many siblings. Knowing this Lute immediately felt that something was wrong and took a step towards his companion, only to be stopped by the serious tone the metallurgist was applying to her inquiry towards Atlas. He suddenly felt heat rush to his face at the way she sounded. Why, did she think Atlas was a criminal? (Er…) There was no need to talk to him like he was common dirt beneath your boot, and the dark glower Lute shot towards Xandra made it clear that he was taking offense in his friend’s stead.

Atlas started to explain himself and well, even Lute became confused. A man made of cheese? As he was oblivious to the sightings almost everyone had about a running white rabbit, he didn’t quite feel right with this line of reasoning. He found Atlas staring at him, practically begging with his eyes for Lute to back him up on this matter, but he dropped his gaze and frowned.

“… You probably have a concussion, and that cut on your cheek could have been made when you fell down,” Lute lifted his face and approached the dark-haired man, only to gather thick clumps of hair from Atlas’s head and then tug. Hard. “You even have blood here!” He hissed in the other man’s ear, his features now contorted in worry and irritation. A concussion, as he had suggested, would pave the way for a claim of hallucination, but the Pride might say that Atlas did something fishy and tried to cover it up by doing this, by saying a cheddar man was the assailant. Not a pretty scenario. 

Lute let go of his friend, still grimacing at the thought. “Atlas,” He started, then bit his lip before continuing, “ Did you hear anything? Like did the bear… or the cheese people… say anything about why they did that? If they could speak, that is.”

Looks like Lute has chosen where to place his beliefs.