With a hand flattened to his forehead, which was beginning to feel much too clammy for his comfort, Basil's body began to sway to and fro as if seasick. He would need a moment to let things "settle" before he would be ready to do any more exploring. The Star was at least willing to give him that much. Hanging his head, he allowed himself a very deep sigh before becoming suddenly alert, looking vaguely over his shoulder. Several cars ahead, he had detected a tremor on the tracks that was now hurtling towards them. He was able to brace himself for it, but hadn't thought to warn the Star, and by the time he had, could only watch as it lurched forward and took a nasty knock on its forehead. He almost wanted to smile at the sight, had there not been another intrusion. His eyes had fallen away just short of having a flashlight shone into them.
Already made uneasy by the Star's decision to regard the uniformed men as enemies, Basil wasn't feeling especially friendly in his compromised state, less so when it was apparent, even to himself, that he would only be able to defend himself in a limited capacity. Fleeing was out of the question. He would only end up running blindly through the cars with no escape. His only option was to glower sullenly at the approaching attendants, his body bristling.
He knew well in advance that he would be willing to cooperate, but would not be touched. He warned them to give him his space through a series of unintelligible mutterings. It was only a shame for both them, and ultimately himself that he should not be more eloquent.
Despite what might have been perceived as encroaching danger, his thoughts were not with the Star, not that he lacked an appreciation for its safety, but because he had a very one-track mind and could not focus very well on more than a thing at a time. He did not ask for loyalty or protection. He would not have blamed the Star for abandoning him, as he would not have thought to see it that way. So when it had knelt near him as if to defend him, he was astounded to say the least. He would not be able to fully appreciate the nature of this gesture, or what it might have meant for him in the long run, but at the very least, he knew how to return a favor. And so, snaking his arm around the Star's upper-body, he drew it close to him, making them a single formidable opponent. At either side of him, a bladed wing fanned out, poised and ready.
Cut obsidian was as good as a bowie knife, and in certain areas, performed with even greater proficiency. So long as he was a Raevan, he would always be weaponized, and was confidant that it would provide a buffer between them and potential harm. He began to mutter something before acidly confirming, "...Durem."
From the sounds of things, the attendants were not asking for trouble, and wanted only to assess the damage that had been done and sort some things out. Basil had no reservations about returning home if it meant having his bed to sleep in, and hoped that the Star would not have any objections to this. After some coaxing and reassurances, Basil was willing to relax some, holding the little Star tightly to his chest as they were both ushered into a different car where they could be seated and infrequently monitored. The cars at the back were mostly empty, and so it was fortunate that they would receive no stares from the other passengers. The transfer might have gone flawlessly, had one of the attendants not found it necessary to touch Basil lightly on the shoulder to guide him into one of the sleepers. Enraged and startled, the glass raevan had swung an arm behind him. Though it had narrowly missed contact with the man's neck or shoulder, it had done a great job of shattering the plexiglass on the door.
Recoiling from the blow, he gave a beastly huff through his nose before entering the car with Prajna in tow. Bunk beds were the sleeping arrangements, and Basil immediately collapsed on the bottom bunk. It was dark inside, and smelled unmistakably of feet. There was a thirty minute waiting period before one of the larger attendants took it upon himself to check in and ask them authoritatively for details. Where were they from, where did they need to be, who could pick them up, who would be paying for the broken glass and disrupted silverware, and so on. Basil answered sporadically for the both of them, depending on which questions he was able to answer, and his willingness to be roused from sleep. It would be nearly five in the morning at the Durem Groundspan Train Station before the right calls would be placed, and guardians would heave themselves out of bed to answer for the missteps of their charges. There had been no shortage of adventure. The sun was rising. The stars would be gone, and whether Basil would ever encounter his strange but exciting new friend again, time only knew.
