Frux slipped away from the little gathering of humans and dragons and daemons after his obligatory banter with Novitas, the expectant, round, and irritable mother. With both of the Danui boys, both of the Metuono boys, Cohlin and Deep Kaur, all of their bonds, and Novitas' strange, serpentine mate-- who didn't seem to want to leave, despite the lady's repeated suggestions that he do so-- with his two Fedra "pets", Frux expected that they wouldn't miss him. Besides, no matter how much interest he had in the unborn coiling around in that halfbreed womb, he could only be attentive to Novitas' growls and grumbles for so long before feeling like he needed some air.

Well, the desert was certainly had plenty of air: there was so much open air here, it almost felt oppressively empty, if there was such a thing. It was warm, too, with a blasing desert sun which felt good beating down on his short, pale coat. Daynoren and Novitas had given them a brief tour of the complex, the former moving through it much more gracefully than the pregnant latter, and Frux remembered where everything was. For now, he just found himself a path around the outside of the cluster of buildings to pad around it, enjoying the sun on his fur and letting his thoughts wander.

It had been just over eleven years since Frux had first come to live with the Danui children. He had been the oldest, at the time, and the most mature. Now, because of the bonding spells and his own slow aging compared to that of even a bonded human's, he felt like the youngest, and though he was still possibly the most mature, that wasn't as important as it had been when he'd first moved in with Catame and Tantra at the Nidus. At the time, they'd needed his protection, encouragement, and guidance, then, and he'd been glad to give it. That was, after all, what he did best, and enjoyed most.

Now, though, Catame was well on his way to becoming a young man, certainly no longer a child, and Tantra was most certainly a young woman. They were each other's protection, guidance, and encouragement, now. Frux smiled to himself, proud of how the anxious little Light and shy little magelet had grown. Catame was thoughtful and considerate, friendly and, if not as social as his brother, at least no longer afraid of making friends. Tantra had yet to come into herself entirely, but Catame's affection and support would lead into that growth before long. They were enough for each other, now, and they had the comfort of Daynoren, grown into a splendid young man who's flippant arrogance masked a kind soul, and Novitas, whose scathing tongue did the same. Neither they nor their daemon friends would abandon or forsake the softer pair of the group. Even Cohlin, who had once been as asocial as anyone could imagine, was there to be an understanding ear for troubles or a mischievous instigator of pranks.

On the whole, then, there was no need for Frux at all. All of the children had grown up, or were nearly grown up, and bonded to a partner perfect for them. Not even Novitas would need her bickering companion, now, for Frux was a good enough reader of people to realize that her new mate Sehmei was not going to leave, and she really wasn't as intent on making him do so as she made herself out to be. It was a match of equals in more ways than one, and it was a good match, Frux thought, for he had the patience and fortitude to withstand her temper, and she would leave him alone when he wanted to be left alone.

That didn't change the fact, though, that Frux was an accessory, now. He found himself wandering away from the whole bonded mess of them more and more often, but he had nothing else, really, to occupy him, so he always came back. Just like he knew he'd find them again today once he'd had his fill of solitude and wished the sound of voices around him again.

He wasn't discontent, exactly. He liked all of his companions, and didn't even feel particularly left out, being the only one unbonded among them: there was really no inclination within him to share his mind with another. What he felt was closer to... aimless, perhaps. Or possibly restless. Before, he'd had some point and purpose to what he did, some reason to be where he was, doing what he did. Now he was just drifting, and he didn't think he like drifting.

But what else could he do? He'd learned everything he needed to know from the bonding complex's teachers, except for magic, but he was only mediocre in that, anyway. The government wouldn't take him for diplomat training until he was at least fifty, quite possibly older. He could go back to his parents, but he'd just be drifting then, too-- and besides, he didn't like his parents any more now than he had when they first shoved him into the bonding program. He could start reading up on things pertaining to his future profession, of course, but that would hardly take up all of his time, and would be fairly dry, anyway.

I'm certainly going into a dull profession, he thought with some amusement, but not without any thought of changing it. All his life, or at least ever since he'd known enough to consider the future, he'd known he was going to be a diplomat. He was perfect for the position, after all.

Ready to get out of the sun, now, Frux took his thoughts into the complex, wandering among the dragon-sized buildings and ending up at the incubation areas, where eggs that had already been laid were warming, waiting to hatch. It was hardly a surprise. Frux had a love of children which was, according to all who knew him, completely out of character for him. Novitas' unborn fascinated him, despite her general disgust with having to carry them, and the varied offspring of the frenzy drew him with their very strangeness.

As he drifted among the eggs, under the benevolently watchful eye of the alien "nanny", he caught sight of one of the candidates-- Novitas had pointed that particular one out when they walked through the first time, four the tour-- looking hopefully at a pair of eggs, crouched down on the hot sand. Frux watched a moment, a little bemused, before the thought hit him.

I like children, don't I? And I like having someone to look after, don't I? Surely not all of these children will want to bond-- didn't Novitas say they were looking for homes for those, as well?

It seemed perfect: he'd just take one of these young ones home with him, once they hatched. Or were born. Or aged, or however they were doing this whole thing. Novitas could snort at him, Daynoren and Kienn could laugh at him all they liked, and Catame, he expected, would just give a knowing smile and shake his head. Frux didn't care; he wanted something to do with himself, and this quite suddenly felt like the thing to do.

He'd just have to find someone to sign him up, now, before someone he knew found him and talked him out of it.