Llewellyn + Bellamy | Early evening
Bellamy woke up early in the morning, bathed, shaved, and dressed for a full day of work, lasting well into the early hours of the morning. He made sure to attend the service at the Temple, telling himself that it was only to better understand the Aurellians and thus appeal to them more -- or else, to make sure that they weren't using the unsupervised space to congregate and plan terrorism. In fact, he was curious; but he hardly let himself acknowledge the pull that the place had begun to exert on him. Curiosity was a double-edged sword in the inspector's hands.
The Danu's reading turned over and over in his mind throughout the day and into the evening. But then, a dark haired, cat-faced man passed by and gathered the Winnan into his arms, took him to an in and paid for a room and a doctor at his own expense, staying with him until he made a full recovery.
As dusk plunged into night, the officer found a crying little boy sitting in the dust -- or was it a little girl? These Aurellians let all their children's hair grow long, and they all ran around in nothing but trousers in the summer. (Allen could hardly begrudge them.) All alone, the toddler, still chubby with baby fat, had concealed himself under a park bench, shy and afraid of the loud music and bustling crowds. The marshal only noticed him because another child pointed his way from across the town circle, and he'd looked over to see what had caught the older child's eye. Approaching the bench, he heard thick, wet sniffles, and a sad, lonely whimper.
"Hey. Hey, there," he cooed to the babe, squatting to the ground a few paces away. "Are you lost? Where's your mom? Where's your dad?" But the child put his face into his hands and babbled in Aurellian.
"It's okay," Allen tried again, but it was no use. The toddler sniffled harder, and threatened to start crying.
"Friend?" It was one of a handful of Aurellian words Maura had managed to drill into his thick skull. The baby paused and glimpsed at him, suspicious, between his fat fingers. "Friend??" Allen tried again. Inspired, he rubbed the footprints out of the dust at the foot of the park bench with this closed fist and began to draw in the dirt for the child. What would make a little Aurellian boy happy? First, a simple sketch of a flower. Then a dog. Then, a wiggly line: a snake. Each time Allen drew an image, he pointed at it and asked the little boy, "What did you see?" He didn't know the proper conjugation, but the child seemed to understand. Little by little, he began to uncurl from the fetal position and inch his way forward, babbling in Aurellian, presumably naming the shapes if he recognized them.
"-- friend?" The child asked. Allen didn't understand the babble that came before it, but by now, the boy was looking up at him tearfully, plaintively. He held up his hands to be picked up, now finished with the game and ready for his bedtime. Gently, the marshal scooped up the child. "Friend," he assured him seriously. Now, where were the boy's parents? They must be worried sick. Or else, too drunk to notice he was gone.
Over there: was that Danu Llewellyn... hardly wearing any clothing? No matter. What the butler did in his time off really wasn't Allen's concern. Here was someone who could identify whom the child belonged to and help to calm him down some more. "Danu, I... do you have a moment?" he asked, walking over with an Aurellian babe cradled comfortably on his hip. The little boy's head rested against Allen's shoulder, his chubby and stuck firmly in his small, wet mouth. He waved at the Danu, a familiar face, but was too tuckered out for much more action.