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No intention.

How could there be no intention from a stranger? No intention to poke, prod, or otherwise handle the Plague that Chauhn so bravely stood to protect? For a moment, Chauhn was dumbfounded by this lack of intentionality from the man, almost overwhelmed by the fact that he sought not to pry the brothers from each other, like others had done before. Theo was purely and just...curious. And reasons explaining his curiosity were quickly divulged, a solemn similarity between the two, a simple fact: They were both Grimms.

Standing dumb, Chauhn watched stiffly as he tapped his pocket, and he swallowed, relaxing his arms. His shoulders were still pinned up near his neck but, after discovering that they were both Grimms, Chauhn felt somewhat more at ease. There was a bond there, a kind of unspoken connection or alliance that promised him safety from this other Plague keeper. Of course, even then, Chauhn knew that there were even Grimms he couldn't trust, but there was something about the man, a man of good word and faith, that placated his fears, if but for a while. The moment Chauhn calmed himself with the presence of the man, Theo gave a great shout and a leap.

Stumbling out of the way as Theo rushed by to frantically grasp the burning stew, Chauhn had barely enough time to let the heat on his back cool before he was bombarded with pleas. The man was right. They, Chauhn and Clurie, couldn't afford to divulge the fact that they were Grimm and Plague to an entire church! It was poor enough already that he had been found out by a priest and a cook. He was about to open his mouth and agree to help the man, when the other shouted again. A glint of gold caught his eye and, looking down, the urchin watched as a pale ring rolled before him and promptly bowed and fell before his feet.

...A ring...No, Chauhn knew now, no, that wasn't it at all. It was a Plague.

Silence hung in the air like a taut rope ready to snap in the few moments Chauhn took to stare at the ring. It made him feel uneasy, as if a coiled up a chord of uncomfortable tenseness wrapped itself about his gut. He didn't have much time to stand there, dumb, however, he had someone to help. Without a second thought, for his heart was as golden as a knight's, Chauhn jumped forward to aid the man, stooping down quick to pluck up Theo's precious ring and drop it into his front overall chest pocket.

"Duncha worry, sir, ahll 'elp you! Clurie, 'elp me!" Chauhn gasped as he leaped beside Theo. Unthinking, he threw his hands to his face, catching Clurie as the ashes leaped off his cheeks and wrapped itself around his hands like a pair of black gloves. In another swift motion, Chauhn had his hands, with Clurie upon them, grasped along the edge of the pot, foregoing the handles that were already grasped by Theo. The instant he laid his hands on the edge, Chauhn thought he was going to burn, but a surprising thing happened. Clurie acted like a pair of mittens, absorbing the heat as best it could, and allowed Chauhn to focus his strength and pull the pot, along with Theo's help towards one of the nearby counter tops. Using his layered clothes to brace the pot against the length of his body, Chauhn moved quickly, heaving it up with his chest and up onto the cold stove. Despite the Clurie's devouring of heat, still some strength of it bit at his hands, and Chauhn, with his lip bitten tight to keep back yelps of pain, pushed the hot soup safely onto the corner. Once it was secure, Chauhn released his grip and stepped back, looking in wonder at Clurie, who writhed and wiggled on his hands, seemingly happy.

Staring at the Plague that saved him from burning his hands, Chauhn completely forgot about the pale ring resting his his chest pocket. He glanced up and offered a meek smile to the priest, his hands still held up in front of him, black with soot.

For those few moments where it was nothing but the descending glow of heat, melting away from his hands, Chauhn was just as surprised as Theo. It took the clear sound of the priest's voice resounding in the kitchen to snap Chauhn out of his reverie and he looked up with wide eyes, his nose red from sniffling and his cheeks blushed from effort. In response to Theo's initial statement, Chauhn meekly offered a nod of his head, watching as Theo pulled forward some wooden bowls. He didn't bother to hide the fact that his stomach was grumbling loudly for food, and he doubled over himself a bit, holding his abdomen with painful greed as he overlooked the man ladling handsome portions of soup and vegetables into the dishes. Licking his lips at the crack of the bread being broken, Chauhn practically had to hold onto the edge of the table to keep his legs from dropping out from beneath him with hunger weakness.

His knees were also weak from Theo's gentle hint, an unsaid prod towards the door. Chauhn's stomach did a flip then, his hope getting kicked into a metaphorical ditch outside in the cold and wet snow. While the ashes of his plague crawled up again to purr and tremble on Chauhn's face, the urchin moved carefully forward, like an alley cat that was being offered a suspicious piece of food from a foggy-intentioned individual. He moved like he might dash for the door at any given moment, but he moved forward nonetheless.

Taking a cautious seat up on the stool where his legs hung over a few feet off the ground, a painful reminder to his young age and small stature. His shoulders were pinned up close to his neck and his head was hung shamefully, "You mean for me t'ge' ou' then, sir? This is...This is the only place we 'ave lef' t'go, sir, there's no where else safe 'n this time of nigh' for us to sleep. Ah can't sleep if'n ah go back ou' there, ah migh' no' wake up, if'n you take my meanin', for one reason or another." Chauhn gulped, trying to muster his best urchin's pout, which wasn't hard considering that he was relying on true fear to play out his part in the discussion. But then he realized something...He still had the man's ring. It would be a cruel thing to do, barter with something that wasn't rightfully his, but Chauhn had to do something to keep himself and Clurie safe and warm during the night. He did promise that he would do ANYTHING to keep his brother safe.

Swallowing hard, slipping his hand over his chest pocket where he held the ring, he knitted his brows as pitifully as he could, "Sir...Ah will trade you back your ring for a safe night's stay 'ere, hidden, somehow, 'n your room or...in the closet...an attic, someplace warm, sir, where ah can 'ide. And...And for the meal, sir, the meal too. Ahm dreadfully hungry." Then quickly, he held up his hand in a gesture of peace, "Ah mean no disrespect, sir, ahm just...Ah 'ave to do whatever ah can do to keep me 'n my brother safe..." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the heavy weight of the gold ring, letting it rest in the palm of his hand. He wasn't malicious in his handling of it, he was just a young boy.

"Ah know you mus' understand me. You're like me too, you 'ave someone to protect."

There wasn't much time for him to get nothing more than a tentative sip of the clergy's soup before Theo was up and moving. Chauhn's plea had been effective, and even though anxiousness built up in his stomach like a bubbling rise of sea foam, he was relieved and hopeful. His deal would earn him a warm place to sleep, somewhere safe and out of sight (or at least, that's what Theo promised), as well as the hearty bowl of soup in his hands. Perhaps his luck was finally falling into place, he thought, but then he thought again. No, that was a foolish thing to think, luck and fate were nothing but myths, he knew. That's what his eldest brother Bradley taught him. You couldn't just walk into good fortune, you had to earn it, and his actions today proved exactly that. Slipping off the stool before retrieving the heavy weight of the soup from the table while Theo gingerly repositioned Rosalie, Chauhn moved as carefully as his wobbling burden would allow. He looked up at Theo as he led him away from the kitchen with eyes as beady and wet as a bird's, trying to express all the thankfulness he could with the meager glance of a grateful urchin. Unlike other street bound children, Chauhn didn't feel remorseful about the loss of the gold ring's weight from his grimy palm. He didn't entertain regrets or thoughts about what he might have done with the earnings a ring might have earned in the market, he was happy enough with just a safe place to sleep and food for his belly. Chauhn's ambitions weren't lavish ones and he was easily pleased. In fact, he felt better to have given the ring back than he would've to kept it. Stealing just never sat right with him, besides, it was against the Clemmings' name.

"Ah can't thank you enough, sir," Chauhn said, lowering his voice to a husky whisper as, he too, could hear the shuffling of a hungry church in the building. He moved faster towards the door, following close behind Theo's leading frame as he opened the door to the attic loft. It was just what Chauhn needed! Just what he was most familiar with. He gave a beaming grin at the man, stepping before him and moving to start up the stairs with his precious cargo. The stairway went up a good distance before it opened up into a quaint little room, just big enough for him to stretch and move above out if he so pleased. It had rolls of fabric stashed away in a cheap looking cabinets without cabinet doors, a sewing table, as well as a basket with various threads and needles. At the foot of the sewing table was a scrap bin, filled with meager unusable pieces of fabric. It was a bit musty, but it gathered the heat from the kitchen, which made the small room much more bearable than if he were in a stable house, desperately trying to burrow under the hay for warmth. This was definitely a step up.

Settling the bowl of soup down on the empty sewing table, Chauhn turned around to face the weak-armed clergyman. Clasping his hands together and giving an Imisese bow, his face warmed and pinned up with a smile, the Clemmings boy could express nothing else but complete gratitude, "This is fantastic, sir, thank you so very much fer this kindness. Ah won't make a sound sir, ah promise, ahll be as quie' as a church mouse, you won't even know ah was 'ere! Ahll be gone come mornin', nothin' bu' a dream, sir, ah owe you that at least."

The urchin shifted a bit, loosening his stance into something more relaxed, and he slid his dusty cap from the top of his head, his messy yarn of tarnished gold hair now visible from underneath the too-large hat. He held the hat near his chest and bowed again, "Ahm glad to 'ave met another one like me, another Grimm. Thank you kindly, sir, thank you."