Lionhearts ||Skephalo||

24

Sapnap trails behind Ant, surveying the streets for anyone he recognizes as an agent of Eret's organization. An organization which is surprisingly not completely illegal.
He listens to the catboy chatter, talking about the situation back home and how he and a few other shifters would come down to do both manual labor in the late summer and fall, as well as shifter specific jobs.

His interest spikes, and he asks,

"Specific? Like what?" Ant glances to the side, as though suddenly realizing he's said too much.

"...uh, sometimes people need a small pair of paws," he laughs it off, "finding things and all? Basically any job that needs a sentient animal who can relay info or carry out orders."

Spying, stealing, and assassination, probably.
Sapnap files that information away, and gestures to a building beside them,

"Boarding house. Does that match?" Ant shakes his head, and shifts into his cat form, sniffing around for any trace of Red. He perks up, and hurtles off into the growing crowd, with Sapnap chasing after him.

He skids to a stop, shifting back and waiting for Sapnap. They've come to a stop in front of a blue building labeling itself as a cat café. Sapnap's mouth twists up in a wry grin.
Of course he'd be here. Cat boys.

He watches as the brunet opens the door eagerly, and after a bit of asking for people, another young man emerges from a back room.
The sight of the pair of shifters embracing each other, warmly reuniting and relieved to have found each other, should've been a sweet one.

But it just brings a bitterness to Sapnap's mouth. His expression is indiscernible, though to him it feels tense, twitchy and like he's clearly holding things in.

He watches a bit as they catch up, wrapped in a haze until Ant turns to him with a smile,

"Hey, Sapnap was it? Thank your friend for me! I would've probably run in circles for weeks if it weren't for him."

Sapnap swallows down the pang of envy that was clawing its way up his throat, and musters up a semi-convincing smile.

"It's no problem babe," he drawls playfully, winking, "You two lovebirds...lovecats?...have fun with whatever you plan to do. I'll give Skeppy your thanks."

He turns, leaving the café. He meanders through the streets back towards the healer's shop, lightheaded and struggling with the guilty sense of envy and jealously that grapples him relentlessly.
He has that boy. Skeppy has Bad. They're young, but Tubbo and Tommy have each other and that's all they seem need, like platonic soulmates. Everyone has theirs. Everyone!

He hates the jealous anger that fills him, the bitterness on his tongue. It wasn't fair to the others for him to be so angry, so bitter, and so childish.
Everyone except me.

But he really can't help it.
Sapnap just can't push away the burning compulsion in his chest, can't push away the ache of longing that so easily morphs into envy when he sees the other pairs of mates, holding hands and kissing and just being...in love.

He wants to be in love. The voice threads through his mind, the gentle yet almost playful reassurance as the person, his person, pulled the spine from his wound, pulling him back from the edge.

His mind is too loud, far too loud.
He veers down a side alley, looking around for any of the runes or marks that would indicate one of Eret's passages.
Surely he hasn't changed everything up in only two years?

Sapnap can remember the path he took back then, can remember where Eret came from their last meeting. But there seems to be no traces, and despite his growing unrest that boils in him like a poisonous stew, he begins to make his way to the healer's shop, hoping that they'll be out soon.

A hand brushes his thigh, fumbling towards his pocket, on the way out into the crowd, and without thought his hand darts out with inhuman speed, catching the culprit's wrist.
A rather alarmed face looks up at him, and he murmurs lowly,

"I'd advise you keep your sticky fingers out of people's pockets. You're no good at it."

The youth gulps, and Sapnap glances around, tugging them into the alley.

"Do you know anything about...hmm...the sewer system?" He inquires, and the kid nods frantically.

"Look mista," they pipe in a nervous, shaky voice that places them as presumably a young male, "if yer lookin for The King, I can show ya the way! Please don't turn me in."

The words are rushed, and clearly only said to get Sapnap to release his bruising grip on their wrist. Sapnap murmurs,

"You mean Eret, don't you?"

The would-be thief nods frantically, and Sapnap loosens his grip.

"I'm not going to turn you in," he clarifies for the sake of the jittery kid, "I just need to find Eret, alright?"

The kid asks reluctantly,

"...so...ya know him? Nobody round these parts calls him Eret..."

Sapnap explains with a faint roll of his eyes,

"Yeah. Would I be asking after him if I didn't? Look, have you heard of Sapnap? The dude that Eret was training a while ago?"

A look of recognition crosses the wide eyed expression, and the kid asks,

"...is that a friend of yours?"

"You could say that," Sapnap smirks, "Anyway the gist is I really need to talk to him and can't find the gates. You're totally off the hook and I'll even give you a bit of gold if you can show me the way, alright?"

The pale eyes light up, and he nods excitedly, and tugs Sapnap along.

"This way mista."

Though Sapnap can't find a reason to distrust the kid, he keeps his other hand firmly on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw at any moment.
Not that he can fight with his left hand, but it's not like anyone would know that.

He's led a bit further down the street, to another alley, this one ending in a small fortune telling stand of sorts.

"If ye head down there and ask for the king's reading she'll let you in," the youth instructs, and Sapnap, after digging into his wallet, hands him a gold piece.
He's sure that the reason the kid is so agreeable with possibly dangerous information is either youth, fear, or confidence that if he turned out to be bad, Eret was able to take him out.
He would be able to.

"Thank you," he releases the kid, who flashes him a bright grin before vanishing into the crowd, gone like a little ghost.

With the location fixed in his mind, he steps out of the alley, making his way back to the square and in turn to the healer's with a bounce in his step.
I'll make sure to go first, in case it's a trap, though.

He doubts it will be, but expecting the unlikely is never a bad idea. Especially dealing with someone whose reach mysteriously extended as far as Eret's.

Someone with so much power should never be underestimated.

He turns a corner, and settles into a bouncing rhythm as he approaches the healer's shop. Despite his painful envy, Sapnap settles into a brighter mood, anticipating seeing Eret again. The man had helped him get his bearings in the Overworld, without even a slight care for where the straggly black-haired youth on his doorstep had come from.
He closes his eyes for a second, taking a breath of air filled with mixed scents of various natures; ranging from acrid scents and dung, to the scent of fresh baked bread and laundry drying on the breeze.

It feels so much more alive here in the Overworld. There's so much more of...everything. And he loves it. He'd live here, Sapnap decides, he'd definitely like to live in the Overworld. Some of his peers wouldn't agree; many people raised in the End have an odd phobia of the Overworld, whether it shows as an agoraphobic nature when presented with simulated Overworld environments or just a general terror when regarding the Overworld.

He's never had that problem though. He's always wanted to be more adventurous, more eager to see things, to know.
He had been made fun of it, he remembers with a chuckle. He had been made fun of for reading all those books about the Overworld.

Well, who's laughing now?