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Asrafel was momentarily surprised by the wolflike companion that padded to him and began to sniff. He squirmed to assure that Sonata didn't sniff parts that his ribbons couldn't cover in time. Such would be very embarassing!

"Ahh, how affectionate! What kind of being is your friend, Sonata?" He crouched down to reach his hand out for Sonata to sniff.

"I have been very busy, actually! There's much to be done lately, with the Center and with our kin. I haven't been home in three days, actually!" Though his words were bright as ever, there was a softness about them; he had spent so much time at his actual home for once, that leaving them once more was lonely. The Center was almost always empty, but there he spent his nights, waiting hopefully.

She would come home some day. He was sure.

He shook his head, jarring his dangerously unhappy thoughts away. Back to the present! "Though my older kin are those I have seen the least of all! You and Elle, I have not seen in quite some time. You, especially, I feel I have spent inadequate time with."

Hungry? His stomach growled noisily in response. Why, he certainly was hungry! He had cooked for himself for weeks now, and while he was decent enough, he was no Julia Child.

"That's very kind of you." Asra chirped out happily, padding to a chair and setting himself down silently. He took this moment too take a good look around, noting the art that his friend created. "Oh, you enjoy creating I see!" His eyes rested on the latest work, and the frightening eyes that lay at it's center. "You spoke of your muse, now I understand. I've never painted before, it must be very enjoyable!"

Perhaps, he mused to himself, the eyes in his friend's artwork came from his dreams. It was a logical conclusion for Asrafel, as he had come to visit for more than just the reasons he had mentioned. Lonan's dreams interested Asrafel more than the other boy could know.

Asrafel was delighted to see the food before him. He helped himself to some, making various little noises of pleasure as he ate it. "Mmm, Lonan, I must visit you more often, especially when I am hungry!" He giggled and took another bite, returning his gaze to the canvas as he chewed thoughtfully.

"I should suppose he may be someone from your past. Or something. I have dreams of my past often, as doe- .. did, Lillian." His voice dropped as heavily as his heart did when he was forced to correct himself. His appetite plummetted as well, and he put his fork down. With a sharp sigh, he continued the conversation. "Dreams are the mirrors to our past, you know! Have you spoken much with Elle about it?" At the mention of her, Asrafel finally noticed her picture. He stood, stepping to stand in front of it. His head tilted for a moment as he considered the picture, before smiling. "What a lovely likeness of her!"

As he continued to stare at the picture, her vision made him feel warmer inside. She had that effect, even when she wasn't there.

"Mm, I think I can understand it. I'll bet you can see her just fine without using sight.. even her voice hints to her beauty. Your talents are simply that you can take what you see with the rest of you, that you may not see with eyes.. and put it on canvas!"

Asrafel turned back to Lonan, stepping forward to lean closer to Lonan. "But I wonder, Lonan.." His voice was hushed due to his proximity, with lack of understanding for personal space. He reached up and rested his hand on Lonan's shoulder gently. "Have you ever attempted to paint yourself?"

Asrafel took in Lonan's figures. "It's a shame I cannot paint, or at least not that I'm aware of. I'm sure I could catch at least some of the features that make you beautiful! But alas, I cannot. I would love to see a self-portrait if you ever created one, though." He reached up and brushed one of Lonan's locks with a finger, before smiling brightly. "I'm sure it would look wonderful!"

He stood up straight, and returned to the portrait of Ghost. Back to business.

"Lonan, what do you know about us?"

Asrafel smiled secretly. "That is the general idea. It's good to know you're at least somewhat aware of things. However, I wonder.." He brushed his finger along the side of the canvas. "How do you feel about this world we live in? We have not been here long, of course.. but do you have an opinion on it?"

Sightless eyes were still working windows to Lonan's soul, and Asrafel had seen into them when he closed in on the young man. It was time to change, just as his gut had told him, but even if he had a job to do.. he couldn't help but be curious about Lonan's future. He was strictly forbidden from influencing it, of course.. at least.. not on purpose!

Asrafel couldn't decipher Lonan's answer adequately. He just took it in, and nodded. "You do find beauty in the world as well though, do you not?"

He felt a soft pain in his chest, and frowned. Perhaps he was intruding just a bit too much, after all.

He swiveled around, and took his seat once more, his careless demeanor returning. His hand rested against Lonan's as he spoke brightly. "Well, anyway! I regret to admit that my visit today was not just for social content, though I do love coming to see you!"

He shivered slightly, feeling a cool breeze tickle his skin. Impatience was never a virtue he held high in regard, he reminding a certain intruding presence.

"Well, you see, it has something to do with what we are talking about, in a way. But I shouldn't press on about that much more." He added, feeling the breeze nudge him in the shoulder. So pushy. He thought.

It was a quiet little cottage, empty and far away from any contact, he noted as he looked around. A safe enough place for vulnerability. Not that he ever had much of a choice.

"Ah, well, you see.." He stumbled on his words, hesitant to continue. He didn't like doing this, after all. He stood up and looked away, his back to Lonan. His hands clasped behind him tightly. "I have a message for you. A message that requiresa response, I suppose." He chuckled softly. "It sounds so silly when I try to explain it! I guess that's why I'm not in charge."

He bucked slightly, a faint heave. His hand brushed against his chest. It hurt. It always did.