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It was just supposed to be an ordinary walk, nothing particularly special. Maybe a trip through the forest, going through the fields and then back to Monstadt. By all means, something that should have taken less than an hour - and also something that Wanderer shouldn’t have really needed to go along for.
It was a walk, not a week long trip. Wanderer didn’t really know why he also had to go and play chaperone when Albedo was there, glued to Durin’s side the same way he had been since the day that Durin had been created. Honestly, that alchemist seemed clingier than Durin himself had been when he had originally left Simulanka for the first time, but in a much different direction. Wanderer didn’t dislike Albedo - he had done Durin a good service and Wanderer wasn’t going to dispute that.
Despite that, Wanderer didn’t like the sharpness in Albedo’s gaze. He knew the look of someone who searched only for results, and those eyes were the spitting image of it. Wanderer did not like how Albedo looked at Durin sometimes - when the boy wasn’t paying attention, whether that be during his lessons or playing with Klee or whatever other activity they could wrangle him into doing that would inevitably fail to occupy Durin’s curious mind for more than ten minutes. Like Durin was just some unknown variable, a cog in an experiment. He liked it even less when that calculating gaze was in his direction.
Still, as much as Wanderer would have loved to stay in the city walls and not be under the constant scrutinization of that alchemist, in the end all that Durin had to do was pull that stupid expression - the one where his entire body seems to slump, his wings and tail going limp and making him look even more pathetic than usual. Hell, if Wanderer hadn’t agreed, the kid probably would have started crying, and that was a headache that he didn’t need in his life.
So, of course, here he was. Walking in relative silence with a potentially deranged alchemist and an overexcited newly reborn dragon.
His life was full of joy, truly.
It quickly turned out that neither he nor Albedo were very conversational. Fortunately (or rather unfortunately, depending on who you asked), Durin seemed to talk enough for all three of them, talking about whatever came to his mind. Albedo nodded at the right times and added little comments - maybe a question, maybe a correction, maybe an extra fact about whatever plant he had just pointed out - but for the most part, the silence was easily filled by Durin’s excitement.
Honestly, Wanderer had to wonder what the hell those knights were feeding this kid, because it couldn’t be anything other than pure sugar. Probably the same stuff they were feeding that little arsonist kid that had a tendency to trail around wherever Albedo went. It was like a cursed train; Durin would follow Wanderer, Albedo would follow Durin, and then Klee would follow Albedo. It was a saving grace that Klee was currently in confinement for her poor usage of her bombs.
He’d wanted to ask more questions, but that was none of his business.
What unfortunately was his business was the little dragon yapping his ear off, and even more so than that the way Albedo’s gaze looked right through Durin. The boy paused, looking off into the treeline before wandering off the path, making Albedo and Wanderer halt lest they leave him behind. Wanderer watched Albedo, whose eyes were on Durin as he crouched down, poking at some rocks and flipping them over to see what was under them.
Wanderer did not consider himself to be a patient man, but he at least knew when to shut his mouth, at the very least he knew enough to avoid a fight that was wholly unnecessary and not worth the time it would take. On any other day, Wanderer would have bit his tongue and said absolutely nothing, but something in the way Albedo was looking at Durin… It was cold. Calculating, almost. Wanderer had seen Albedo look at Klee, and he never had that sharp awareness that only a scientist would have. It was akin to watching something you were boiling on the stove in a pot, always keeping one eye on the rising bubbles on the off chance it boils over.
“Can we stay here for a while?” Durin asks suddenly, his hands clenching into fists at his chest before he opted to just hold them together, though Wanderer could see how his tail flicked eagerly behind him. “I’d like to pl- Uhm, go for a stroll a bit further into the woods! I won’t go too far!” He adds, his wings twitching against his sides.
Albedo tilts his head almost microscopically, but before the alchemist can say anything about the supposed schedule they were supposed to upkeep, Wanderer opened his mouth.
“Knock yourself out,” He said with a non-committal wave of his hand. “Just don’t get stuck in a ditch somewhere.”
With the permission he sought granted, Durin’s grin widened and his hands flapped happily for a moment. Wanderer just watched as Durin promised that he’d be back in a few minutes, then the boy turned on his heel, vanishing into the treeline. Wanderer wasn’t exactly worried about him. Durin was capable enough of fighting back if he had to, or even flying away. Besides, Wanderer would be able to reach him before anything happened.
“I would appreciate you not undermining the schedule I have established,” Albedo’s aggravatingly quiet voice came from his side. There was no anger in his tone, just the simple explanation.
Well. Now that Durin was certainly out of earshot, this made things a lot easier.
Wanderer turned, glaring at Albedo under the brim of his hat. “You don’t have to look at him like that.”
Albedo just tilted his head. “...I do apologise, but I don’t quite understand your meaning.”
A half-laugh escaped him. “You look at Durin like he’s just a subject. Like he’s an experiment.”
There was a moment of silence between the pair. Then Albedo hummed, looking back into the treeline. “By all definitions of the word, Durin is an experiment.”
It wasn’t said unkindly - it was said in the same tone that Albedo said everything else. Infuriatingly calm. Even so, it sent a jolt of ice through Wanderer’s nonexistent blood.
“He’s your brother, not a fucking creation you made for a science fair.”
Albedo just turned to look at him. “Two things can be true.”
“Oh, so you’re just being an asshole? He’s still a person! You look at him like he’s some kind of doll- like you’re trying to figure out if he needs to be opened up and fixed.”
“Mr. Hat Guy,” the alchemist said aggravatingly calmly, “I’m observing Durin to ensure that his abyssal energy does not exceed the bonds that my alchemy has created for his human form. I understand your concern, but rest assured I do not intend to… open up Durin. It is within my best interest not to unless any unforeseen circumstances arise.”
“For a so-called alchemical genius, you sure don’t seem to see when the stuff you’re saying sounds demented. You don’t look at your sister like that.”
“Klee is not an alchemical creation housing abyssal energy from a five hundred year old dragon that was fated to resurrect.”
Wanderer opened his mouth to respond, but then they heard a sound - wings flapping and then a rustle accompanied by a familiar shout, and with little more than a sigh, Wanderer had rushed through the forest and found Durin with quick ease. The dragon was laying at the base of a tree, though he was pushing himself upright with one hand rubbing at his face. Durin turned to Wanderer with wide eyes, brimming with unshed tears as he just stared at him.
Albedo reached his side not long after, taking in the scene as he knelt in front of Durin. “What happened?” The alchemist asks softly, tilting his head.
Durin let out a quiet sniffle. “I, uh… I saw some sunsettias and I wanted to get one, but I fell out of the tree…?”
Wanderer looked up. The branches of the tree weren’t too high off the ground. “Don’t you have wings?” He asked - not unkindly, but incredibly curious.
Said wings flapped awkwardly against Durin’s back as he shifted so he was sitting, his knees drawn up to his chest, and Albedo winced as he saw the tear in the knee of Durin’s white pants, exposing a decently sized graze. “...I hit them on the branches on the way down,” Durin said quietly, one hand going to pick at the grass by his side, “and now my knee hurts…”
Albedo reached out, inspecting the wound. Quite frankly, it wasn’t something that would need major treatment, nor something for concern, in Wanderer’s opinion. He’d had much worse and survived to tell the tale. Then again, Wanderer wasn’t human. Well, neither was Durin, but not in the same way as Wanderer. It was weird how that worked - Durin had actual flesh and blood, and so did Albedo, but Wanderer only had synthetic chemicals.
Even if he disregarded that fact, Wanderer was all too aware of the fact that Durin had no reference for injury scale just yet. He may be adamantly refusing to be called a child and may not have the physical shape of one, but everyone was aware that Durin was new to the world in a way that only a child could be.
Still, Wanderer moved closer as Durin hissed at Albedo twisting his leg just slightly to see better. He brought one hand up to the brim of his hat, the other going to his hip as he leaned forwards to see, letting out a fake wince.
“Damn,” Wanderer said after a beat of silence, waiting until Durin’s gaze landed on his face. “Looks like we’re gonna have to cut it off.”
Durin’s eyes went comically wide, his scraped up wings flapping behind him. “What?!” He cried out, looking about five seconds away from actually sobbing, and Wanderer had to try especially hard not to laugh. Albedo sighed, slowly turning to fix Wanderer with a light glare over his shoulder, and that was probably the most angry Wanderer had seen Albedo in all of the time he had known the alchemist.
Wanderer watched as Durin turned to Albedo, his eyes still wide. “Do we have to?” He asked quietly, his cheeks slightly flushed as Albedo shook his head firmly. Wanderer finally released an amused huff, moving so he was standing next to Durin. It was mean, sure, but ultimately harmless.
“Come on, I’m fucking with you. You’ll be just fine.”
“Hat Guyyyy…” Durin whined, bonking his forehead against Wanderer’s upper leg. He could feel one of Durin’s horns pressing against him somewhat uncomfortably but he didn’t say anything. He just patted Durin’s head. “You’re so mean to me.”
“I’m mean to everyone,” Wanderer pointed out, adjusting his hat with his free hand. “You’re not special.”