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i c u thar

When he stirred towards wakefulness it was at first slowly, and he opened his eyes away from Qarah, staring at the far wall with a sort of detached, apathetic lack of expression that wouldn't have seemed out of place on the face of one the stupid ones. It was not his usual guarded, nervey look at all. It was as dull as he normally was sharp.

When he realized he was not alone he bolted upright with alacrity, the blade suddenly in his hands although he did not go so far as to use it. It was very much a part of him, and never more so than moments like these, tense and terrified.

For a beat he said nothing, only scrambling backwards to sit upright in his customary corner, watching Qarah over his knees. When he spoke it was still sleep-hoarse but fully alert. "What do you want?"

i c u thar

Qarah observed the original as he woke, and contemplated the difference between him and the stupids. The stupids had little self-preservation unless taught. The Original was different. He startled like a frightened rabbit, but a rabbit with claws. His initial reaction to threat was get away, his secondary and concurrent reaction was to make his weapon. He had cornered himself, but perhaps that was not a sign of stupidity, as there was no escape available, and the corner provided two directions of safety.

"I am not here to hurt you," it said soothingly. It paused, decided not to include this time. He was spooked enough by his presence alone. Instead, it would demonstrate a similarity to encourage him to think of Qarah as not-so-strange. It made its own weapon, a long chain that lay across its hands with a heavy, weighted ball on each end, and stated, "Look, I can do that too."

i c u thar

He glanced at it, turned away again, even more steeled and nervous than before. Lurks had claimed they'd been told not to hurt him, but this was not the most comforting thing to see given that this directive might change at any moment. He wracked his brain thinking of any time he'd ever fought something remotely similar: Shiloh, America. "The other one says they're a part of you. Your weapons."

i c u thar

"Yes," Qarah agreed, and put its weapon away again, watching curiously to see if the Original would do likewise. Probably not. He remained tense and coiled. Qarah had been bitten by a minipet wearing a similar expression once. It could not apply the same easy solution to the problem if the Original decided to get aggressive.

"Where do you keep yours when you put it away?" it asked. It had seen him summoning the knife, but humans, as far as it knew, could not make weapons the way horsemen did of their own Fear.

i c u thar

He lied, easily and without the faintest hint of a pause. "In our heads. Metaphorically," he added, leery of where that line of study might lead. "Is that where yours are too?"

restful

Qarah watched the Original sleep, a bony bundle of limbs that breathed and sometimes muttered. Usually it departed before he woke. Once it set itself down beside him, a precise meter away, wrapped itself in its robes and shawls, and went to sleep itself. Its beetles occasionally climbed across an outer portion of its wrappings, but stayed close to its body, not venturing unasked across to the human.

Q&A

He wanted what it offered very much. That was clear. Ah, then, Lurks and Waits were likely being neglectful. That thought brought Qarah a rush of spiteful glee. "What is the interval of time at which you must feed and drink?" it inquired. It knew, knew, that the other two had not checked. How very careless.

It tilted its head, considering. "If I bring you books, you will show me," it said, not quite a statement, not quite a question.