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Bornes leaned forward at the question, enthralled. "would you?"
Too good to be true, but he may as well test the water...

Bornes inhaled quickly and moved his head, but didn't close his eyes. He would've asked why Isiah had tried to hit him but his attention was diverted to the question at hand.

"Yes," he snorted. "Sort of. I never had a mother, and I went to a sort of...Military boarding school?" He wasn't sure what exactly to call it in english, "..For most of my life. But Father was an instructor there, so I saw him often. I had nothing that resembled a family, however."

Bornes shrugged, as if it wasn't a huge deal.
"I was able to learn many things others have not," he excused himself.
"I am sure that, with all the times you have fought in your cult, you did not learn a specified fighting style, or how to read your opponent's movements, or how to save your energy and improve your stamina?"

He waved his hand as if shooing a fly away. "But that isn't as fun as blowing things up with all the sorts of weapon training. And I would not know english as well as I do now if it were not for the academies."

He looked to Isiah, obviously quite proud of himself, "And I am told my patience is insurmountable." He smirked briefly, before his posture slackened and he groaned.

"I think I have a fever," he complained. He looked over to the dog again and frowned. "Maybe your beast gave me something."
He scratched the back of his head, unsure.

Bornes narrowed his eyes when Isiah went into his 'dog voice'. He hmphed.

"No," he stated flatly. "I'm sure I'll get over this in a day or two. What is the point of backtracking all that way? I would probably get sicker over the journey." he brought his left hand up to his face, wiping imaginary sweat away, also taking his glasses in his hand.
He felt hot, that was the whole reason he had taken his shirt off in the first place.

"Did you go to public school?" He decided to change the subject from himself again. There was no denying he was sick, but he still felt uncomfortable showing weakness in front of another, especially when it was something he felt he had no control over.
"What was that like?"

"Junior year?" Bornes questioned.
"What grade is that?"

He quickly switched gears, however, trying to narrow down Isiah's experiences enough so he would share them. Bornes had heard all kinds of stories about public school. After his eyes had gone he couldn't view anything that emitted light. So he never watched much TV or movies, as all he saw was a bright white screen.
He had nothing to go off aside from early memories of other kids complaining and books, and the tidbits he gathered here and there from the occasional person he actually talked to.

"Well, what was the schedule like? At the academy, it was lights on at six am and formations and exercises at 6:30, breakfast at seven and at seven fifteen, academics until noon, lunch break until twelve thirty, study time until two, formations and military training until eight, and then down time until ten, when it was lights out."
As bornes had rattled that off, he hadn't thought much of it, but as soon as the whole thing had left his mouth, he was surprised he had even remembered it all. And then he leaned back slightly, blinking, putting his glasses back in lap.

"Wow, I guess it was hard." He frowned. He didn't remember much of it.

"That is really... Short. I never knew public school was so short."
He cocked his head, and wiped it once more, this time running his fingers through his long hair with a loud sigh.

He was visibly tired, ready for bed even though their night was only half over. He didn't want to admit he wanted to fall asleep right there. He asked another question, his voice sounding not too interested.

"What happened in your 12th year?"
Bornes was sort of interested... But moreso exhausted.

"Kaeden is who you moved in with after your father kicked you out?"
He looked toward Isiah, his face wanting to be immersed in Isiah's world, but too overcome with tiredness to do so.

After Isiah would answer Bornes' question, the hybrid would look around, hoping to find some sort of suitable ramshackle of a building to hole up in. He couldn't find one and his hope waned, his posture sinking as he looked to the ground.
It was only the two of them. Isiah was letting himself go to Bornes. Not without some friction, but still with much more freedom than Bornes.

Why would it be so hard for Quatre to open up and simply admit something that was already physically evident? It was only the two of them. Isiah wouldn't think any less of Bornes.
It must have been a pride issue.

Bornes saw it coming and grabbed the tube, his glasses, and his shirt before he was pulled up. He didn't have the heart to say anything or fight back, but simply huffed through his mouth and began to walk forward slowly, his eyes slowly glazing over.

Every few moments he forced himself to blink away his blurred vision, and try to stay awake. He hoped he could keep awake and walking long enough for Isiah to pinpoint some place to sleep.

Bornes' tail was noticeably limp and between his legs, and Bornes let out a short high-pitched whine from his throat. Slave driver.