Scaramouche opened his eyes.
Although the sun was about to rise in a few hours, his room still felt like it was trapped in perpetual darkness; so, he didn't notice the extra weight next to him right away. Instead, it took him a few seconds before he noticed the warmth of something soft and furry pressed against him. He turned his head to see the one-eyed fox snuggled up to him, its tail wagging gently against his body.
At first, Scaramouche let out a heavy sigh, wondering how the fox had managed to sneak into his room once again. But as the fox nuzzled closer to him, he couldn't help but smile. Despite the trouble it often caused, he had grown quite fond of this thing.
He reached out to stroke the fox's fur, feeling the softness beneath his fingers. The fox responded with a happy yip, its one eye gazing up at him. With another dramatic sigh, Scaramouche wrapped his arms around the fox and pulled it close. He just stayed there, watching the steady rise and fall of the fox's chest against his own.
He couldn't remember the last time he felt another living being next to him. It had been centuries since he felt the heartbeat of another. That explained why he felt awful when he touched Sethos's body heat, or whenever he got too close to people. He was not used to feeling their warmth, his body was almost allergic to that sensation.
While absentmindedly playing with his fox, he couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu wash over him. This felt eerily similar to his days back in Tatarasuna. Back then, he always had little kids sneaking up to his bed, begging him to let them stay with him. He could never say no to them.
This little desert fox reminded him of those gentle nights, maybe that was why he was generously allowing it to bother him.
His life had taken on a new routine, one that he never thought he would come to accept. Scaramouche felt unsettled by how quickly the pieces were falling into their place. He was getting accustomed to seeing the same faces every day, and he didn't like it. When he first arrived, he spent every moment thinking about how to escape. But now, that idea rarely entered his mind. But here he was, finally settling down in a cosy little room, spending his days mingling with the people of the Temple.
Thinking about Sethos was a dangerous game. Sethos had always been one step ahead, leaving Scaramouche in the dark as to his true intentions. Even when he thanked him, he didn't reveal what he found or discovered by following his tip.
The map that Sethos had stolen from him still weighed heavily on his mind. He knew it held some sort of value, considering Il Dottore's interest in it. But what exactly was the map leading to? What secrets did it hold that made it so coveted?
The fox licked his face, perhaps sensing his distress. Its tongue was sticky and rough, it gave him chills. Scaramouche pushed the fox half-heartedly with his elbow.
''Stop it,'' he mumbled, as if it would understand his words. ''I need to think.''
The fox did not stop licking him. Ignoring the wet and coarse licks of the fox, he continued searching for a good explanation.
Since he couldn't decipher anything from Sethos's actions or that quack doctor's possible motives, he decided to go back to where it all started: the couple that gave him the fragment. It had been a while since he thought about them. They were just a distant memory now, their faces fading from his mind. If he didn't force himself to think about them again, he would've forgotten about their existence.
When he met those Fatui deserters, they were starving and alone. He found them stuck in a primitive trap, ones made by Hilichurls. Since Hilichurls had no taste for human meat, the cursed monsters left the couple to their fates. If it hadn't been for Scaramouche, they would have starved to death.
