If I'm a Prisoner (0ri0n83 and Golly)
 

Name: Talon Gabriel

Age: 20

Appearance: http://i1127.photobucket.com/albums/...anime20guy.jpg

Bio: From a young age, Talon showed ability in magic. It was something that, among his people, had become increasingly rare. So, he quickly caught the attention of people for miles around. This had been a great thing for his constantly struggling parents, who were able to put on little shows to get their debts paid. Unfortunately, news quickly spread to one of the few powerful dark magicians left, and the family owed him quite a good some. Despite the pleading of the parents, the magician refused to allow any extra time to work to repay it and instead took young Talon to raise as his own, in the hopes of molding him into a successor twice as powerful as he had been. With time, Talon forgot the details and came to know only that he’d been raised by the magician. Bound to the land, it became the only world Talon ever knew.

Personality: Shy and unsure around those who aren’t his teacher, occasionally cruel (as he can forget how to feel empathy), bright, silly

Name: Zephyr Fair

Age: 19

Appearance: http://i1119.photobucket.com/albums/...a/heise049.jpg

Bio: Zephyr is the first son of the Fair family, rulers of the western lands. Since this is the case it was pre-ordained that he would follow in his grandfather's footsteps since his parent's the late prince and princess died. This is, however, a fate that he does not want, and he does not believe that people should dictate how he is to live his entire life. He decides one night to leave the estate where he is living, to which he manages to get himself irrevocably lost.

Personality: He keeps mostly to himself, and is rather quiet. However, he also has a good sense of right and wrong and will fight for what he believes in, as well as his honor, to the death. He also has a soft spot for small animals and children.

Zephyr sighed as he looked at the map. He didn't know how to tell north from south. He had people do that for him.Letting out a frustrated sigh he threw the map onto the ground where it was swallowed up by the inky darkess of the encroaching night. "Brilliant," he yelled out loud to no one in particular. This was beyond ridiculous. Oh, if his parent's could see him now. The crown prince of the western lands covered in sweat, dirt, and mud. He had trounced through the forest to get away from the family estate. He didn't want to stay on the main path for he knew that as soon as the guards figured out that he was missing that they would come barreling down the road on their large, brown warhorses. So he stayed to the shadows of the trees, and off of the beaten path. Which caused the majority of his downfall. There were twigs and leaves in his unbound black hair that fell down his back in long locks. He hadn't noticed in his fumbling around that his hood had fallen down to reveal his face. Grabbing at the hood he managed to find his way back onto the path, deciding that he was enough distance away to be able to walk freely. A wiser man probably would have taken a horse, but that was not something that he had thought of since he had left hastily.

Zephyr knew that he had to at least get to an inn, or a town where he could stay the night. He had enough money to give to the inn keeper for not only the night, but to also keep him, and others from prying into his life with their questions. As he continued to walk he spied some faint lights in the distance. A tavern perhaps, better yet an inn. Happiness welled inside of him as he quickened his pace. He was so happy that he was barely aware that anyone had been trailing him until they were practically on top of him. There were four of them, on horseback no less, that began circling him."What's a pretty little thing like you roaming out at night by yourself. It's passed your bed time." Zephyr's pride got the best of him and before he could stop himself he managed to spit out," Better step aside or you'll be sorry." He knew that he would need a better comeback, but right now words were evading him. He usually had at least two armed guards that flanked him wherever he went so right now he felt rather "naked" without them. "Pretty strong words," said the man that had initially spoken to him. "How about you and me go for a ride." The man drew ever closer to him and reached behind and grabbed him by where he assumed Zephyr's neck was. Zephyr let out a surprised yell as he was hoisted into the air. "Let me go," he yelled out as he thrashed around a little bit. As he kicked out there was a flash, and the last fading sunlight fell onto the sword around his waist. The male that was holding him reached out towards it, and managed to take it off from where it was tied."Pretty fancy sword you got here rich boy. Got anything else?" Zephyr's next sensation was that he was flying through the air only to fall hard on the hard packed ground. Letting out a cry of pain he looked up as the others had gotten off of their horses. The rest of that time barely registered in his head. He felt himself being punched, kicked, choked, and then darkness. The last thing he heard was the faint talking of one of the other men. "I think we should dump him from prying eyes. [...] Looks bad. [...] magician's place. -won't be missed."

"When he awakened again he sat up, immediately regretting it as he felt a pain go slashing through him like hot iron. Letting out a yell of pain he tried to assess where he was. It was pitch black where he was, so he figured that it was the middle of the night. He was lying on his back so the first thing he needed to do was get onto his stomach. Managing that he took two deep breaths to steady himself, and take his mind off of the pain. Hoisting himself up he managed to get up only to double over from the pain. From his new position he assessed the damage that was done to his body. He knew that he had at least two broken ribs, to which it hurt to breath. It would be just his luck to have a punctured lung with how much pain he was in to breath. He knew that from the pain in his legs and arms that at least one leg and one arm had a sprain, or broken. Was he going to die out here? To hell, he was. Glancing forward he saw a silllouette of a large tower and home against the star filled sky. At least he was lucky that there was a full moon. He managed to begin crawling towards it. Maybe there was a chance that he could get there and get some medical treatment. Then again he had no way to pay the person or people, but could offer money when he was able to travel again back to the main palace. Getting up for the second time he felt a surge of adrenaline, as he continued to walk with renewed vigor. He found himself running as he hobbled, but then he lost his footing and came crashing to the ground again. He was pretty sure that he had struck his head on something since as he laid there he felt something warm begin to trickle down in his eyes, and the smell of iron was in the air. As he managed to roll on his back he stared at the moon as he practically felt the life ebb out of him as he took his last breath.

((Alright, Panera time. I re-read the prompt, and I figured that he had to "die" before the two of them met. If not I can edit it. Also before he passed out the first time with the [...] that was what my character was hearing. So it was really broken since he was like going in and out of consciousness)).

Deep breaths of fresh air relaxed Talon. Sitting on the outskirts of the land had always inspired strange thoughts and emotions. At times, it simply cooled his head after a long day spent reading and quietly taking verbal abuses from his teacher. Other times, it made him anxious and ready to attempt another escape. Every time he had tried to do so in the past, he found himself suffering an unbearable pain that seemed to originate from nowhere and everywhere at the very same time. As it happened, he couldn’t think of anything but it. But, now that it seemed a frightening but distant memory, he couldn’t help but find it interesting that such a feeling could exist. It was so strange knowing that a huge world lay just beyond his reach. He was always just a little too weak to break free from his bonds. Yet, he could see it all before him, so he knew that it certainly existed. Stranger yet was that he was well aware he’d once been a part of it. Talon closed his eyes, trying to press old memories forward into his mind. All he was certain of he’d taken out of books. He had read of markets and festivals and he wanted to be certain he remembered once being a part of it all. Unfortunately, childhood memories were skewed by such wishing and he couldn’t even be sure what he had created to appease himself and what he could honestly recall.

In the distance, the sound of an owl wishing the sun a last goodnight pulled Talon from his memory conjuring back into the moment- the soft grass brushing against his face as he turned to lay on his side, the sweet smell of distant pine trees, and the comfort of knowing he would have time away from his beloved (although harsh and annoying) teacher. It was like that, he’d fallen asleep and left the lands without proper guard.

By the time he awoke again, the sun had long past its place lingering on the horizon and been replaced by a full moon that proudly suspended itself from the sky and the owl that had earlier kept him in good company had gone off to terrorize rats. The air was cold and the grass had grown wet, leaving Talon uncomfortable where he lay. It was very well time he went back inside and finished his daily reading. He’d already wasted too much time day dreaming, thinking of a past that likely never happened, and a future that wouldn’t happen if he continued on the way he had that day. Surely it was time for some practice. Lately, he’d been working with small creatures and both healing and killing them with a single touch. Surely some failed experiments were terrorizing his notes as they either began slowly dying or regaining the life he’d just drained from them.

Talon pushed himself to his feet and, very childishly, began to sprint toward the tower. Suddenly fearing his work had truly been ruined. He was stopped in his tracks by the sight of something that inspired an even greater fear. In his path lay the beaten body of another being. It was certainly not the old, frail body of his teacher. From all he had been told, Talon knew only to be weary. But, he quickly realized, the body was oddly still. In fact, it showed no signs of life at all. Talon, still hesitant, crept toward him and lightly placed two fingers against the neck, searching for a pulse. Finding no sign of such life, Talon let out a large sigh of relief and found himself sitting beside the still bleeding body.

It was warm, so life had been lost just recently, Talon deduced. Perhaps, he could bring it back. He’d done this in the past, taking a life and quickly bringing it back. If it wasn’t too late, he could find himself held in high regard for saving a life. With this in mind, Talon wrapped his arms around the body, shivering at how strange the warmth of it felt when held so near, and dragged it into the tower. He shoved knick-knacks off of the kitchen table and dropped the body, so he could set to work.

Shaky in his haste, Talon knocked books from their shelves as he light candles and found his paints. Talon set the small pot of dark ink down beside the body on the table and dipped his thumb in, then pressing his thumb against the forehead of the body to create an intricate little work before moving his hand down to place it on top of the other, which already waited where the heart had recently ceased its beating. Eyes pressed tightly shut, he muttered a quiet incantation and found himself suddenly empowered by a bolt of energy that ran through both of them from an unknown source. Talon continued with his muttering as the room brightened for a second then quickly darkened again.

((Aye, Captain!))

As he carried on with his muttering, Talon suddenly became aware of an awful tingling that began in his own heart and crawled down his limbs to his fingers and toes. It felt almost like an electric current that selfishly took whatever strength it passed and carried it down to his hands and feet to ground him into the spell he now found himself forcing through clenched teeth. In this, it became physically impossible to stop. A childish fear that if he would quit, he would never free his hands from the body, overtook him, causing a falter in his chant. After closing his eyes once again, Talon regained himself and picked up where he had left off. Already he’d repeated the spell once and had made up his mind to continue doing so until the first sign of returned life.

The sensation grew more obvious, and although not painful, more dreadful. It was certainly much too late to turn back and failure no longer presented itself as a backup plan. Life was near; he could very well feel it. He was no longer alone in the room. It was almost as though another being floated within the room, sending a cold chill down Talon’s spine. This time, he did not allow the mild shock to lead him off of his path and kept his voice steady, knowing he could only carry on to coax life back into his hands.

The words he spoke were in a language that rolled off of his tongue far smoother than any other. Although to a mind prone to over thinking could make no sense of them, their very rhythms and natural accents seemed to bear a message of their own. They found a way to make sense by the most illogical means to say what no coherent words ever could, even in the hands of the most practiced of lingual masters. It was a tongue Talon never remembered not knowing and for the most part, he felt almost as though it was his very own.

The moment soul and body connected was clear. Suddenly, all that had been stored in his hands was drained from him and lost to what he expected to be a living body that lay on the table. The exchange happened with a dramatic jolt, beginning with a heartbeat that thumped against Talon’s hands and finishing with a miserable weakening that washed over Talon.

Finally, he lifted once heavy hands off of the chest that he was certain contained a beating heart with ease as he continued to study the body. Although he was certain blood circulated well now, he could not see the smallest heaving of the chest or movement of the eyelid to suggest further consciousness. A frown instantly enveloped his face as he found himself having to use the table for support. He’d failed, it seemed, and the failure had taken all he had to give. Beads of sweat rolled down Talon’s neck and forehead. His mouth hung half open to greedily take as much air as it could for his own lungs.

Only once before had he been successful with anything larger than a rat. He’d named it Cleopatra, a large tomcat he’d mistaken for being female. But, he’d found Cleo long before he knew how to grant lives with nothing more than his words and hands. In fact, he’d come across his Cleo as he was dying, as he struggled to maintain afloat in the fast moving creek that ran in front of his bedroom window when winter snows melted. Talon had jumped in after the cat and pulled it out, upset to find it no longer breathing, much like the body he’d just taken in. Talon had brought the cat back using a technique he’d picked up in one of the many odd books tucked away in every corner of the tower.

This happy little memory shed new light on the situation. Although he’d never learned a spell to grant breath with the power of his magic words, he’d long ago read medical textbooks with basic procedures that could be used on anyone. Talon had never been given the opportunity to experiment with such tactics, but practice had been exactly what he’d intended to do with the body. As he wiped the sweat from his face, Talon gathered what little energy he had left within him and, although dizzy, made up his mind to dedicate all he had left to properly ending the job he’d taken upon himself. With this thought, he slid a careful hand onto the chin of his apparently unconscious experimental subject, gently pinched the nose, and quickly, with closed eyes, pressed mouths together in a single, clumsy motion to loan his own breath.

((Fail CPR scenes are too tempting for me to ever pass up on!))

((Haha, I can totally picture this))

Zephyr continued to lay there as he heard the chanting above, all around him actually. It was as if he was surrounded by the speaker's voice, as it emanated every where where he was. He heard the other male falter a little bit in his speaking, and he felt himself slipping back into darkness ever so slightly. However, it didn't last for very long. As the other continued to chant it was as if the other was now yelling out whatever he was saying, and he had to resist the urge to throw his hands over his ears to silence the deafening sound. He, however, did not do that and he continued to lay there as he steadied his breathing so that he was barely breathing. He still had his eyes closed so he didn't know what was going on around him.

Hearing the sound of a thud onto the nearby table he wanted to wrench his eyes open to see if the other male was alright, but he was still in what he considered not only a foreign land, but also in one of the more compromising situations that he had ever been in in his entire life. Since his eyes were closed he tried to use his other senses to try and figure out where he was. By the smell of it he was in a dining area, possibly even in the kitchen. The acidic smell of something smelling burnt confirmed that for him. Apparently, whoever lived here didn't know how to cook or bake.

Zephyr heard some shuffling around as he heard the others labored breathing, and his quietly beating heart felt a small pang of pain for the other male, or whoever was in the room with him. He figured that he might as well survey how badly his body was in the event that he would need to make a quick run for it. As he let in tiny breaths of air he felt the pain of broken ribs, and possibly a punctured lung from the searing pinching he felt as he continued to place oxygen in his lungs.

As he continued to lay there he felt his chin being tilted up, and then the labored breath of the other male above him. He then felt something warm on his lips. "What the hell?!"thought Zephyr as he felt his heartbeat begin to pick up a little bit. He was glad that his breath didn't hitch in his chest though. What was the other doing? He then felt the other begin blowing air into his lungs, which was beginning to hurt since his broken limbs were still, broken.

Resisting the urge to pull away from the other male, he tried to resist a little bit. As he felt the pain in his chest begin climbing he opened his eyes wide hopefully able to surprise the other male. Pushing with all his renewed strength he managed to get into a sitting position as he wiped his mouth from where the other's lips had once been. "Wh-where am I?" he managed to rasp out as he looked around eyes widened. As he sat there, awaiting his answer, he doubled over and fell onto his side as the full force of the pain from his ribs hit him.

From the other end of the bond, there was a resistance. Much to Talon’s surprise, he was met with wide opened eyes. Quickly, his first reaction was to push himself away. He did this hard enough to knock himself off of still weary feet so he fell onto one of the many loose piles of musty books to set free the skin of dust that had covered them and disturb the homes of numerous bugs that flew and crawled in all direction from their place of safety in a quick scattering before disappearing again here and there. The old books, not happy with having been disturbed caught Talon with hardcover bindings that bruised his back and hands as he just barely caught himself in them.

The rational part of him had long been watching from a corner and shaking its head to say it would never work. But, there on his very table a fully alive being sat and looked around. From his perch on the floor, Talon returned the stare in utter disbelief, eyes widening further as a tiny rasp came from the lips of his experiment gone wonderfully well. Talon wasn’t sure how to answer such a question. Had he been bolder, he would have naturally answered, ‘The kitchen.’ This again reminded him of just how small his world had been. The name of a room didn’t define place for others the way it always had him. Just who’s kitchen and where? This thought was quickly interrupted by the thud from the table as the other fell.

Talon, still out of breath, shakily pushed himself off of the pile he’d made himself comfortable on and onto his feet as he frantically shuffled back to the table. As careful as he’d been in handling the other male when he first lay him down on the table, Talon pushed him from his side onto his back. Talon’s fingers clearly trembled as he did so, something that could be attributed to both the sudden loss of energy and how nervous he grew seeing another person animated with life in the same way as he. The other was so close, too. What an odd sensation it was to feel the full warmth against his fingertips. It was not at all as it had been earlier, when final signs of life had been fading. Now, they were all clear and Talon was very much aware of it. It sparked both curiosity and fear in him.

“Don’t ruin my work,” Talon began his voice a soft coo. It was the first time he’d spoken a comprehendible language in at least a week and the words felt strange as they formed on his lips. When he was alone, he liked to forget how to thread words together and instead rely on his own sounds and the more brutishly romantic language the body liked to speak on its own. That was what his little creatures understood and that was all he’d ever become fluent in speaking, but it was impossible to be so intimately cryptic with someone use to the flavor of the outside world.

“Please be still until I can finish my mending.” he continued, doing his best to imitate the strength his teacher always expelled, even when showing gentleness. With his head held high and fake apathy layered too thickly to cover his faults, Talon's soft voice found a way to carry through the messy room, between shelves and bottles and beneath chairs piles of rubbish. “You are in the home of the Great Jervis Crowell, mighty commander of the shadows and night and all within its reaches. And I.. I am Talon, the last star to leave the night sky.”

Talon only watched as the other male pushed away and made a great escape down the hallway, yelling about getting away. He’d been half inclined to chase and tackle his experiment down at the first sight of defiance, but still too out of breath himself only watched, leaning on the table as the other male disappeared down the long hall. Talon walked slowly along, a hand tracing richly colored clothes that lined the walls. In the dark, it was easier to enjoy the designs meticulously sewn into the thick fabrics. The dim light provided by the torch flickered upon his fallen experiment and for a moment, Talon’s heart throbbed at the idea of his work having been wasted after such a near success. He knelt beside the again unconscious body, his hand still dragging on the wall until finally he broke the contact to place his arm behind the other male’s head, his other arm working to lift the other’s legs so he was cradled onto Talon’s lap in the very way he had done with his cat.

“Why do you, an unwelcome stranger to this house insist on taking all I have to give and leaving right after you take my name?” Talon carried on in his soft spoken way, only speaking again because he’d assured himself his experiment hadn’t yet done himself in quite yet. Perhaps, Talon thought, he needed to be less intimidating, “Don’t leave just yet. Give me your name and company until you’re well again.”

Summoning what he had left of his strength, Talon strained himself to stand upright with the other still in his arms. That someone had run from him with such vigor still struck Talon as odd. What could have possibly ever done after spending all of his life in his free prison to induce such a reaction? The thought that it’d been his teacher’s name to inspire fear didn’t even cross his mind. The old man, although stern and vicious in anger, had never been one he’d imagined anyone could fear. In fact, Talon recalled wonderful memories of laughter shared with his teacher. The young magician, so innocent in disposition, didn’t even have it in him to imagine what horrible things the old man he’d fondly looked upon was capable of and had done in the past. All Talon could think to do was inquire about it later.

Perhaps, Talon’s mind began to wander as he took his first unsteady steps further down the hall and up a winding flight of stairs that creaked as though they were ready to cave in beneath the gentle weight he applied with each step up. Everything seemed to be testing his endurance, even the layout of the tower. His room had long been moved near the top, so he could just about see to a distant town and on holidays, see little dots running about on busy streets. “If you don’t go against me by killing yourself, I promise I will return the favor,” Talon continued speaking because he’d discovered that it felt nice to know he was in the presence of someone who could decipher the words, even if that someone wasn’t necessarily hearing them. In the narrow stairwell, the taps of Talon's footsteps echoed against hard walls, blending with squeaks mice, screeching of the steps, and Talon's muttering to make a quiet commotion that built at the top of the stairs.

((Last line made me LOL. Talon sounds like a loser))

Talon couldn’t help but smile when the male he carried finally spoke and revealed his name. The feeling of having another in his arms, speaking was so entirely new. The light vibrations he felt through Zephyr’s back sent happy warmth to Talon. Although he was entirely ready to collapse at any point, Talon found new strength upon realizing he was almost to his destination as he was greeted by a carelessly left open door made of heavy wood. Like everything else in the house, it was eliminated only in flickers by torches that seemed to go on out of respect for their masters.

His room mirrored the kitchen with it mess of piles strewn about. In one corner, he’d stored books on spells, in another texts on the world outside that mockingly reminded him of all he was missing out on each day. Somewhere, a careful eye could spot an old desk among inks, papers, knives, and still stained bones of small animals. Peeled blue paint made up a recent layer of the mess. Apparently, in his boredom he’d found a new, pointless hobby that allowed him to busy his hands for long enough to hold to clear his mind on days when the weather refused him the sweet outdoors.

Even more hidden was a cot, covered in dusty sheets. It’d clearly been unused for a long time, as the sheets were pulled up so one could have mistaken it for having been cleaned and made. Talon had for a long time found himself more comfortable in the too small hardwood chair with his head resting on the papers on his desk beside the feathers he’d collected from the ground. Creating a path through the mess by kicking stray objects aside, Talon carved his way to the cot he was certain was still there, behind more of his piles and mess, and rather roughly for his lack of spare energy set Zephyr down onto the mattress, beside a fat cat that had already made itself comfortable among the soft blue sheets and itchy wool blanket.

With that, Talon turned back to shut the door and navigated to the other side of the room to open the small, round window he treasured. He pulled his chair up to the window and planted himself on it, resting his chin on the edge of the window so his face half poked out into the cool night. The yellow lights of the town twinkled through half closed eyes to create the perfect inspiration for dreams and, with a yawn, Talon was seduced into a deep sleep. Cool night air blew past him into the room to give its goodnight kiss.

The warm arms of the newly rising sun warmed Talon’s face and, as they grew longer and brighter, irritated his closed eyes to wish a sweet “good morning.” By some miracle, Talon hadn’t fallen from his chair and still sat with his head out the window. Still heavy eyes begrudgingly opened to find the wondrous sight that Mother Nature so painstakingly worked to set up. Although still in a daze, he took in the sight with unfaltering awe. He’d seen it again and again, but its beauty never faded. It simply changed.

A winding road led into the thick forest that blocked his view from the ground, but from his window, it was possible to see above the tall limbs of the trees and to that town he spent much time watching. They were beginning their days as well. A single tiny dot sauntered down a street and from the shadowy outlines of buildings, a bell rocked in what must have been the church. He could imagine the sound of proud tolling that, on some days, strong winds carried near enough to be heard if he strained. The sun, from behind an even more distant mountain, peaked out further to drench the land in shadow and color.

All of the torches had long since gone out, but the sun’s warm light quickly leaked into the room and flooded it in warmth, giving it a sense of life that couldn’t at all be seen at night. In the optimistic sunlight, one could almost describe Talon’s room as a lived-in study area rather than a mistreated storage room. Talon pushed himself out of his chair and placed it back in its proper place beside his desk. He paid little attention to which book he drew from the middle of one of the smaller piles set in the corner of his desk, he sat down again and flipped to a page marked with a large, brown feather that’d suffered so much abuse it had long become impossible to tell what bird had shed it. From the way he’d so easily located his book, one could almost mistake him for being organized.

Before even glancing at the pages of his book, Talon shoved it aside and pulled out what he’d been working on before last night’s opportunity had presented itself. From behind another bunch of books, he drew a wooden block with the dead body of a half dissected frog pinned to it. The parts of the creature were all too important by themselves as well as in how well they gave him the idea of what a human make look like beneath the skin. But, Talon could not bring himself to keep his attention on the work that he’d not too long ago easily wasted hours on. His eyes were soon drifting to the cot out of curiosity about the one who’d slept on it, next to his beloved cat (who had, sometime in the night curled even closer).

As Zephyr shakily stood and bid a morning greeting, a tiny smile found its way onto Talon’s face. He seemed almost smug about it, like an eager child ready to show off the drawing he’d spent all afternoon on. There was no denying it, Talon was exceptionally proud of himself for having brought back something so large. Furthermore, he wasn’t as anxious about being near a stranger as he had been when he’d first encountered the lifeless body. He’d quickly built up a tolerance and, although still not entirely at ease, his hands did not tremble as clearly as they had the previous night.

“I slept fine, thank you,” Talon finally turned his attention to the frog he’d laid out on his desk, picking up a small scalpel and turning it toward the small, cold chest of the amphibian. He leaned in close to the already made incision, which he held open with the side of his tiny blade and seemed to survey it with understanding eyes that took in all they saw to produce some sort of message from the innards. Without his eyes leaving the frog, his free hand shoved papers off of his desk and patted until it found the pen he’d been given for his last birthday. It, unlike everything else in the room, was clearly quite new as its black body shined proudly.

Without turning his head back, Talon continued to speak, “I don’t very often entertain guests. Were you hungry?” He’d likely made his first statement quite obvious, with the state of the tower and the strange habits he’d developed in all of his time alone shining through. He seemed almost to be hiding behind the hair that’d conveniently fallen so it hid his face from Zephyr. He wasn’t quite ready to make eye contact and speak at the same time, although he’d never admit this nervousness.

Talon had always followed a loose schedule that consisted of waking up, reading or otherwise studying, spending a short while outside, then finally eating breakfast before getting on with the rest of his day which was used to study, practice, and lazily spend time in the sun or chase Cleopatra until he fell asleep at his desk. That Zephyr may have been hungry only crossed his mind because it gave him something to ask, and in his mind, questions were the only sort of statements that were sure to inspire a response, even if it wasn’t an answer.

((Blarg, I think I'm going to be heading to bed. I'm sleepy tonight))

Zephyr sat there eyeing the other male from behind wondering what Talon was so intent on doing at his desk. His curiosity got the better of him as he stood up on shaky feet to try to look over the other's shoulder. That was something that he had come to regret now and forever after that. "What is he doing?"thought Zephyr as he tried to figure out a rational reason to why the other was attacking a dead animal on a slab of wood. It was gross, but then again his scientists and scholars back at the palace did the same thing. He imagined anyway that that was why they were so familiar with how to treat certain ailments. His mind wandered a little more to wonder if Talon had experimented on other human bodies, and if the other had done the same thing to those bodies as he was doing to the dead frog. He grimaced at that becoming a bit woozy as he sat back down on the cot.

He heard the other say that he didn't entertain guests all that often. By the look of the chaotic room around him and of what he remembered of the kitchen it didn't surprise him. He was indeed hungry, but he knew that he wouldn't impose more than he had to on Talon. For God's sake the other man did just bring him back to life less than 24 hours ago. There was no reason for him to be demanding more form him. He was about to say no, but then his stomach made a loud growling sound. His body was used to eating right off the bat in the morning. When he had awoken in the palace there would always be a steaming plate of hot food ready for him, but since he was no longer there, there obviously were some things that were different. "I guess a little bit," muttered Zephyr as he tilted his head down to try and hide his embarrassment. "I don't want to impose though."

((Totally fine. Get some sleep ^^)).

Slowly, as though he had to think hard about each word, Talon began to write on the book he’d earlier opened, each letter long and looped. His pace gave the ink time to run and form thick letters, making what he wrote bold and clear. He very often dipped his pen back into the large bottle of ink that flattened several other papers. With how careful he was to keep from writing a single wrong word, it seemed almost as though the simple action was magic in and of itself, although what he wrote simply said, “organs intact- some scarring on heart” beside a carefully drawn image of an open frog and beneath another set of words in his overly large pencraft that read, “Case 1: dissolving of stomach tissue?” So engrossed in his work, Talon almost seemed to forget that he wasn’t alone in the room until a loudly growling stomach pulled him away from the frog. Setting down his scalpel and pen, Talon affirmed his true presence in the moment.

“It isn’t counted as imposing if I offer,” Talon finally fully turned from his work, “Aside from that, it would be much ruder to starve yourself and leave me to clean up the mess left.” Already, Talon had begun cleaning up, having made up his mind to hold off on the experiments he always used to fill his day until his new guest was more accustomed to his habits. Anyway, studying the actions of another being was proving to be much more interesting already. It was so very odd that one would claim to only be a bit hungry, when their stomach just earlier said otherwise. And the way Zephyr had run the previous night still sparked curiosity. “But, if you feel bad about taking more from me, I can settle on a trade instead. Perhaps a few answers in exchange for the eggs the deaf woman dropped off yesterday? I’ll even prepare them.” As he spoke, clearly much less frazzled than he had been first trying to hold a conversation the previous night, Talon pressed the cork back into his ink bottle, wiped the extra ink from his pen onto a stray sheet of paper, and shoved the wooden slab on which his frog had been pinned aside.

Talon picked another book out of the pile on his desk and flipped through its empty pages to assure himself he’d found a fresh journal. Unlike the books on his floor and shelves, this one had a plain cover and no title. It looked much less worn as well. He had a stack of others very much like it, some clearly previously used and others looking as though they’d never before been opened. His teacher had always encouraged writing down all he’d learned, especially when he learned something so entirely new that he had no other reference amongst the many books scattered throughout the tower. On a second thought, he picked another one of the empty books out of his pile and with both under his arm, stood, picking up his pen and ink as well.

“This can wait until you’re well enough to go home,” Talon began, shoving his chair back under his desk as he spoke. Without much warning, he was already hopping down the path through the mess and to the door. “It’s not at all important.” Suddenly, for a small second his voice was calm and almost joyful as he quickly piped, “Come Cleo,” just before stepping out of the door and into the stairwell. In response, the fat cat jumped up and moved faster than its bloated appearance made it seem able to, faithfully following his master, likely already knowing that food was soon to come. Cleopatra was out the door before Talon and starting to run quickly down the steps (creating quite the racket) to race to the kitchen and be the first fed, as was usual. He’d rubbed against Talon’s leg just before exiting, leaving thick traces of his long, cream colored fur where he’d roughly run his back along. Again on a second thought, Talon added, “Are you able to get down the steps on your own?”

Talon only nodded as Zephyr insisted on going down on his own. Although he hadn’t ever been one to take orders lightly, he did head down the stairs and leave the other at his request. Talons, like his cat before him, skipped down the steps and made the creaking wood seem to scream beneath him. If one hadn’t seen him descend, it could have very well sounded more as though he was quickly falling down with his rhythm-less run down. He’d been half inclined to wait at the bottom to assure himself the other wouldn’t fall and hurt himself on too much pride, but decided against it with the fear of causing offense. Instead, Talon went right to the kitchen and began a fire in the stove with an intense stare and a quiet mutter.

“Please don’t wear yourself out with that,” Talon said, looking over to see Zephyr stacking books and papers. He picked up one of the pans from the table and set it over his quickly growing fire. “In my eyes, you’re still a guest, and I haven’t properly looked you over yet. You may be hurt badly.” Talon turned back to his heating pan, holding a hand just over its surface to check its warmth and from a basket hidden beside an especially large book simply entitled, “Crowell Cookery” he pulled a pair of speckled, brown eggs.

“Five questions in exchange for every meal, does that sound like a fair trade off?” Talon continued to speak as he seemingly thoughtlessly cracked both eggs against the large book and dropped the contents into the pan. They immediately solidified in the heat, popping and cracking as they cooked. Beside the warm stove sat Cleopatra, who’d long been sitting in the kitchen, awaiting his meal. Upon seeing cleared space on the table, he took the opportunity to jump on it and try to steal attention.

Talon slid the eggs from the pan and onto a plate he’d pulled from a fragile-looking cabinet. Beside the eggs, he placed a slice of bread and ham, again from the same basket he’d taken the eggs from. He set the food down on the table and immediately knelt down beside Zephyr to examine his ribs. Talon’s curious fingers lightly rubbed where he’d seen the other rub himself earlier, but he quickly pulled away, reminding himself that it may cause further discomfort for the other if he got too close too quickly. Trust was slow to be built, he told himself. It was something he’d never had to build, as he’d only ever really known Crowell, and he’d always remembered being able to put full faith in his teacher.

“Yes. My questions,” Talon pulled up a chair to sit beside Zephyr and picked up one of the blank books he’d brought down earlier. After opening his bottle of ink and dipping his pen, Talon quickly wrote in his loose, large hand “Name: Zephyr …” on the first page. “We can begin with simple questions.”

“I’ll need to know your age; how you died, if you know; and your background otherwise,” Talon didn’t seem to remember that he would need to pause for answers, because he pushed on quickly with his questions, “And why were you at my doorstep, of all places? And why did… or do you fear me? Why did you run?” Ink from his pen had already begun dripping onto the page and sliding down to try and touch Talon’s white shirt. He readied himself to jot down the answers word for word, pressing his pen tip down hard on the yellowing pages of his book.

Talon scribbled down Zephyr’s answers, quick pen strokes creating messier and messier as he increased speed. He’d gotten more than he’d been expecting, which was certainly a welcome surprise. As the other finished speaking, Talon set his pen down on the table and began to lightly blow on the fresh ink to dry his words. Shoving Cleopatra from his perch on the table, Talon set his book down and again pressed his lips to blow the ink dry. On closer inspection, one could see he’d only written fragments of what he considered important to know about the process. The page still simply stated Zephyr’s name, age, and that he had likely been beaten to death and dumped. With his portion of work done on studying done for the moment, Talon stood, leaving the book open on the table, to grab pick another slice of ham from his basket. Along with this, he drew bread to make himself a cold, open-faced sandwich.

“I know I’ve used up all of my questions,” Talon casually began, strolling back over to his seat as he tore a small bit of ham from his bread, “But just out of curiosity, do you think you could share your mother’s stories with me?” As he sat back down, Talon tossed the torn ham bit to an eagerly awaiting cat that now sat beneath the table. “I never knew anyone feared Master Crowell. I very well knew some feared me, but never my good teacher.” Talon finally took a bite into his bread and meat. Apparently, he’d really never been out to hear all of the tales of the frightening Dark Lord Crowell. Talon still looked fondly upon the man, almost as a father.