Submission (#7948) Approved

Silurian, at his core, is simply a kittom who wants to do things his own way.

He priortizes himself and his interests first and foremost, actively dodging responsibilities he did not ontake himself and preferring to chase whatever he personally finds thrilling, subversive, and intriguing. Paying attention to others' reactions only mattered to him if he wanted a specific ruse out of them. But often this caused others to quickly come to dislike him and he'd get into trouble pretty frequently. As a result, he decided it would just be easier to run away and live by himself. He can just avoid the trouble of being liked or disliked by just avoiding others entirely in the first place.

Silurian grew up not knowing much about his origin. He was simply told he was found outside washed up on the doorstep of his first caretaker with his anima heart exposed already. However, he doesn't share the same concern they have over his possible mana poisoning. He's more interested in feeding his desire to learn about the world around him. He found he had a bit of a photographic memory, and if he could not remember anything, it must not be worth recalling.

He had gone through many different sites of history. Libraries, museums, schools, archaeology sites, and churches of all sorts, being taken in temporarily by mentors and caretakers who couldn't bear the thought of letting a kittom sleep in the rain. But he did not usually stay for long, as many tried to curb his hedonistic tendencies to make him a more palatable tenant. Once he was done with their many scrolls and literature, he'd book it and eventually find another place to stay. The cycle repeats and he's never held a friend for long, but he did not mind because his encyclopedia was continuously expanding.

And he thought this would remain the case till he would grow into an adult.

After having a heated argument with a director, Silurian haphazardly grabbed his things and raced out during a storm. Maybe it was a puddle he slipped on, the miasma season disorienting his way, or his heart acting up- he found himself lost, stuck at the bottom of a pit, alone.

"Ah," he thought, closing his eyes, "well, no one's going to come and find me because no one cares about me to do so."

But he opened his eyes to find himself in a warm bed in a small room, his scratches patched up and well. Another kittom slept on the floor, which he recognized him from the church he was staying at. He'd never spoken to him before.

"Why did you come after me?"

But instead of hearing 'it's the right thing to do,' he received a different answer.

"... I wanted to. Because no one else would."

Like a switch flipped in his mind, suddenly, he wanted to learn about this russet-colored outlier.