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After performing his services for Lord Yizhaq, Chauhn found himself woefully lacking in purpose. After the attack on the Fellowship, things were tense in the handsome estate they made their residence in, and there was little to do for a boy whose only skills were waiting, serving, running errands, and cleaning chimneys. While others provided helpful knowledge, and employed fantastic skills, Chauhn was merely in the corner getting in the way, wide-eyed and staring with nervousness at the hustle and bustle surrounding the aftermath of the attack. When he wasn't shoved back into the corner, Chauhn was eagerly following his Lord around, piping in whenever an occasion arose.

"Ah can help, sir! Ah can help. Whot can ah do? Can ah help?"

But his offers fell on deaf ears, and when they were actually heard, the kind Lord shook his head softly and motioned for Chauhn to leave the room. The boy's intentions may have been kind, but he was doing little more than getting in the way. And it wasn't just around Lord Yizhaq, but everywhere else in the estate. He would impede some man's path, or make himself an obstacle for some important passerby. Eventually, Chauhn found himself herded to the outside doors and, with a bitter bite of his lip, turned his back on the buzzing building and stumbled away through the snow, his arms wrapping around his shoulders.

For some time, he walked, somber and sullen, until he came to a lone barren tree. Checking back over his shoulder, he made sure that he was still within sight of the estate should any emergency arise, and, despite the tenseness in the air, Chauhn didn't mind being outside alone. The haunting suspicion of the Obscuvians still pressed on his mind, urging him to return to the estate lest he become the victim of yet another foul trap, but he worried more, at the moment, of being in another adult's way, than meeting up with an Obscuvian. Besides, he wasn't really alone.

He had Clurie.

Digging up from his clothes to bear his cheeks at the cold air, little Clurie frowned at their new surroundings. He quite disliked the cold, and, seeing so much of the white everywhere distressed and bothered him. Rotating around in his brother's collar, refusing to move any more upward than that lest he risk losing the body heat he so desperately needed to have to keep himself from becoming stiff, Clurie made a loud case of his disapproval.

"Brother! All this white stuff! It is cold. It's COLD. The air is cold! Can't we go back inside?"

Chauhn shook his head, sitting himself on the gnarled roots at the base of the tree. He propped his back against the bark and folded his arms on his chest to perhaps keep his Plague warm. "No," he said bitterly, "We're 'n the way there, righ' now, Clurie. We jus' ge' 'n the way. There's nothing useful for me t'do." Tucking his chin close to his chest so he could feel Clurie's warm little body rest and curl underneath his chin, Chauhn gave a long brooding sigh, "If'n ah could do somethin' more...Like fight or...Or do magic...Or somethin'...Because righ' now, all ah am is Chauhn...Chauhn the page, Chauhn the boy. There's nothin' more to me than that."

"You're a brother," Clurie offered up helpfully. Chauhn let a little smile slip onto his face and he curled his hand around Clurie in a protective hearth.

"Ah am," he agreed. But still...Being just a brother wasn't enough to protect and help others, nonetheless his precious Clurie.

Lost in the white, lost in the guilty reverie of possibilities and regrets of things he couldn't do or couldn't become, it had took a press of Clurie's little hot hands against his neck to awaken him. Jerking and snapping his hands up to pry Clurie away from his neck and hiss with pain, he looked down at his brother with obvious hurt and irritation, "Whot issit, Clurie? Must y'hurt me every time you 'ave somethin' to tell me?"

Clurie thought little about the hurt he inflicted on his brother. For all he knew, it just got his attention and the fact that his hands were leaving little burn marks all over his neck, making a ring of scar tissue, was a fact he often overlooked. Forgetfulness was Clurie's creed and he focused on the now, the task at hand. Wiggling himself free from Chauhn's hand, the little Phasmas waved his arms towards the building.

"Inside! We should go inside."

Chauhn gave a heavy sigh in response, "Clurie, ah just got done tellin' you that we get 'n the way. Or did you forget tha' t--"

"No, brother, it's the paper man! He just called us inside. He wants us to meet him in the front hall. Where's the front hall? Have we been there before?" Clurie asked, bubbling with questions. He crawled up onto Chauhn's palm and pointed again with enthusiasm towards the building, smearing ash all over his skin as he moved and waved about.

"The paper..." Chauhn had to take a moment to think before he realized just who his brother was referring to. The Imisese scribe, Jin-Ho! Out here as far as he was from the building, Chauhn hadn't heard him cry out. Lifting up, nearly knocking Clurie off his hand, he looked towards the building just in time to see Jin-ho wave one last time and move away. "Oh! Clurie, back 'nto m'collar." And he moved his brother's small body towards his collar were he felt his simple weight fall and scramble against his neck for a hold.

Getting up from the tree's roots, Chauhn stumbled awkwardly and slowly back to the building, wrapping his arms about his shoulders. He bit back the cold, and with steamy puffs of air, made his way to the front hall, and once he stepped inside he gave into a frantic shivering, glancing about for Jin-Ho.

"Ah wonder whot 'e could want..." he muttered.

With his chin still chattering away the bite of the cold, Chauhn watched with blinking eyes as Jin-Ho hurriedly advanced. There was something in his movements that Chauhn hadn't seen before. From his previous experiences with the man, he was a calm and quiet man, his personality subdued underneath his dutiful air. He had never before seen him with as much energy as he had now. His face was alive and a grin was pulled up, as if expecting something exciting to happen. Chauhn couldn't help but let the corners of his own mouth pull up ever so slightly in an awkward smile, as if to reflect the man's eagerness. He wasn't quite sure what the man could be so excited about, until a little rustle and scramble around his neck snagged his attention.

Clurie could smell the moist scent of death at the first sight of Jin-Ho as he rounded the corner. His little cheeks flared alive, emitting a dull glow, for sure, there was a scent of death on the air, a kind of wet and sharp stink that Clurie knew all too well to be a familiar and comforting smell, the smell of his kindred, his brethren. Shaking like a flame in the wind, the little Phasmas expelled a happy puff of ash from his frantic movements and breath as he jumped and waved.

"Brother, I smell them! I smell them. It is another like me," Clurie piped, his ashy voice an excited break, "Can you smell them? I can smell them. Oh, brother, it smells so sticky sweet."

Chauhn's eyes widened and his smile sagged into a surprised gape. Sure enough, when Jin-Ho closed the distance between them and opened his palms to display a hardly visible little body precariously cradled in the center of his hands. Chauhn blinked once, twice, his body still violently shivering, and then again for a third time. And, quite dumb, he stared with the likeliness of the urchin he used to be seeing a gold coin for the first time.

"She..." Chauhn wanted to say "grow", but, in this case it seemed rather more like the man's Plague, "...shrunk."

Clurie, who was far past making observations, was hanging out of Chauhn's collar, waving with his fingerless gloves. "Hi! Hello! Hey, hi! Hey there. Who are you? Are you like me? Or am I like you? You belong to the paper man, don't you? Why are you all bright? Hey, paper man, she's yours, right? Are you a brother too, like Chauhn is to me? No wait, you're called something else...I can't remember...Hold on...I got this...I can remember..."

Clurie paused for a moment and went completely still, tapping at his chin with his finger.

Chauhn, on the other hand, was finally able to make a more worthy pass at conversation, "Jin-Ho, sir, ah can't believe it! She's a pretty one, tha' she is. Y'must be as 'appy as a fisher with a full net." He leaned in closer, squinting his eyes to better see the tiny Plague, "A pleasure t'mee' you, Blaithe. Ahm Chauhn, and this," he gestured to his neck where his little brother was still having trouble remembering an escaped word, "This is m'brother Clurie."

"Grimm!" Clurie shouted victoriously.

Without having much need to bend over to observe the little Plague, Chauhn raised his brows with amusement. She really was quite small! In fact, he just....couldn't get over the fact of how small she really was. She was even smaller than the longest digit on his finger! Lifting up his hand, with a momentary glance for permission in Jin-Ho's direction, Chauhn beckoned the colorful Plague onto his palm so that he could place her on his shoulder with Clurie, who was, by this time, clambered out onto his shoulder pad to freely move about on the makeshift plush platform.

He was smearing his ash all over Chauhn's shoulder, shivering off little quick burning flakes that fell to the fabric, with his excitement to meet a fellow Plague. His cheeks were bright yellow with anticipation and his little Phasmas face was stretched into a fantastic white grin.

"Hi! Yes, hello!" he shouted back, clapping his hands together and emitting a cough of ash and solitary spark of flame. He tucked his thumbs beneath his overall straps and gave a proud grin, "I'm...I'm..." he paused, then looked up at his brother for a few moments before he was able to remember, "I'm Clurie! Clurie Clemmings. A Clemmings is loyal, hardworking, and loyal. Wait, did I already say that? Uh...Clemmings is...Hardworking..." Again, Clurie paused, "Chauhn?"

"Yes?"

"What is a Clemmings?"

Chauhn sighed, glancing again apologetically at Jin-Ho, "A Clemmings is loyal, hardworking, and independent."

Again, Clurie paused, slowly digesting the information. With a tap at his chin, he asked, "Chauhn, am I a Clemmings?"

Chauhn tried his best to sound amused when he chuckled instead of hapless and exasperated, "Yes, yes you are."

Victorious and well assured in his title and self, Clurie again struck a pose, his hands on his hips and legs planted strong underneath his short figure, "Yes! I am Clurie, Clurie Clemmings, loyal, hardworking, and independent!" Though, Chauhn, who listened to his brother's proclamation wryly though about the irony of the statement. His brother was, in fact, completely opposite of hardworking and independent, and he was sure that there were grounds where he could argue the "loyal" point. That was the injured part of Chauhn thinking though, and he quickly shut that way of thinking away from his mind.

"'s'a good thin' you foun' 'er," Chauhn said, jumping back into conversation with Jin-Ho as he started meandering down the hallway. He made sure to walk carefully with the two little Phasmas on his shoulder, "They 'ave an odd way o' attachin' themselves to you very quickly, sir." He took the offered paper in his hands and held it for his brother while they moved.

The hallway they walked in was largely uninhabited besides the silent guards who stood posted beside the entrances. Chauhn gave a small sigh, dutifully answering Jin-Ho's question, "Ah was tryin' to stay ou' o' the way, sir. After the attack 'n' all, there's so much goin' on 'n m'master's place tha' ah can't 'elp wit'. Ah ge' in the way. So ah was outside, to stay out of it, since there's nothin' much a boy like me can do t'help."

Following along carefully behind, Chauhn made sure every step he placed was as gentle as could be. He didn't want to upset the Plagues' balance on his shoulder and throw them to the whim of gravity. Moving just behind Jin Ho as they navigated their way to the dining room, a familiar place of their past meetings, Chauhn felt himself slip into a more comfortable state. Coming to a place that they've come to before was definitely a safe thing to do, especially for one who was as skittish as a door mouse. He relaxed his stance and meandered to the fireplace, settling himself down as carefully as he possibly could, he even steadied himself in his descent by grasping the edges of the fireplace mantle until he was on his knees.

On his shoulder, Clurie sighed, grateful for the new and warm environment. "What luck! Warmth!" he crooned, "This is much better." Then Blaithe started rambling on about Sloane. With his attention perking, Clurie commented happily, "Sloane is my brother's hero. It's true."

Then his brother jostled beneath him. Clurie, as they wobbled for balance on his brother's shoulder, plucked up Blaithe's little form and held her to him as his brother moved down beneath him. With his little mouth pulled up in a great smile, he made sure that neither of them fell or slipped from their place. And when his brother finally settled, he released his grip from around Blaithe and placed her on his side, his arm still extended for her to hang upon.

The crackle of paper quickly distracted him and his cheeks began to glow as he saw the exchange between Jin Ho and Chauhn.

"Paper! Chauhn, I want it, can I have it? Please! I've been good, and I haven't burned anything on accident, I've been absolutely in control! Right? I have been..." Clurie's excitement started to come to a churning halt as he struggled to remember the events past, "Well...I did burn your socks...But I didn't mean to. Can I still have the paper?"

Keeping back an exasperated sigh, Chauhn put the paper in the fireplace before reaching up to his shoulder. With his cheeks as bright as flame, Clurie carefully jumped forward, easily picking up Blaithe to drag along with him. They were placed down carefully on the tile and allowed to freely roam. Clurie, making sure that Blaithe was still attached to his arm, made a bee line for the paper.

Chauhn, in the meanwhile, free of the little Plagues, adjusted his seat on the fireplace corner so he could face Jin Ho. He offered him a weary smile, "Ah take your offer kindly, sir, ahm sure ahll 'ave time to come to you when ahm not o' any use. But that's simply the problem, sir, Ahm o' no use. Ah wan' t'do somethin' more than just runnin' errands 'n' cleanin'. Ah wan' to be somethin' more. Ah want to protect myself 'n' m'brothers. 'N' others! Ah want to be more useful."

Clurie bolted to the paper as quickly as his little legs could allow. He claimed a corner for himself and gathered it to him, forcing the straight plane of paper to crumple and buckle in his grip. It made such wonderful sound! It sounded, almost, just almost, like the crackling of a hearth's flame, the pop and snap of wood breaking beneath the hungry gnaw of fire. It was a sound as comforting to Clurie as was the beat of his brother's heart.

As his little companion began to doodle and draw upon the paper, Clurie, with the tight squeeze of his arms, released his hug. he brought his gloved hands to his face, rubbing his cheeks until they glowed hot like cinders, and then, with the grip of his now warmed up hands, he set the corner of paper he claimed on fire. Burning away the plane with each close of his fingers. He turned the paper brown, made it buckle and shrink away from him, its edges alive with hot highlights of pulsing light, and, with the shifting of his fingers rubbed it away into ash, which he picked up and stuffed into his mouth, an odd snack.

With his mouth full, he turned to Blaithe, his head tilted in confusion, "Draw? No, I don't draw. I burn and eat." he said, nibbling again on another piece of burnt paper.

Chauhn watched as his plague began to destroy the piece of paper, keeping himself content with his corner of the paper while Blaithe became heavily involved in hers. He listened quietly to Jin-Ho's supportive commentary, his shoulders still slumped, and when the other patted his shoulder, he flinched from the tough and he turned his slanted eyes to him. He seemed no less convinced about the amount of his own worth.

"Useful," Chauhn echoed, he knew that much already. He was useful, but not in the way that he wanted to be. Then came the subject of magic. Chauhn felt his shoulders sag even further, "But Jin-Ho," he said, his voice plaintive and defeated, "Ah don't know 'ow t'do magic. Ah don't even know 'ow t'read. Ahm only an Augur, 'n' ah can't do anythin' else but clean, follow orders, 'n' run messages. Ahm goin' t'stay an Augur until ah die. Magic...Ahm certain ah can't do magic, ahm only a orphan, a servan'. But..." his gaze drifted towards his brother, whose magic abilities were already blooming, "Ah suppose ahll jus' 'elp Clurie get control o' 'is magic. Ah jus' wish ah could do somethin' more for 'im. Defend 'im. With the Cultists bein' as they are, ahm afraid ah be captured again by them, or Clurie will be taken, 'n' ah won't 'ave anythin' to really defend 'im with like you could, or like Sloane."

Chauhn glanced up again to Jin-Ho, his frown softening as the man listed out strands of helpful advice. They were all valid options, all things that Chauhn could endeavor on, and why he hadn't thought of them before was a mystery to the boy, though, when he thought longer on it, he wasn't jaded to discover that he was just refusing to think in a constructive manner. He lifted up, letting his shoulders relax from about his ears. With one hand, he lifted his hat from his head, and raked his fingers through his hair, somewhat bashful in realizing that he had been stubborn up until this point, though the bitter aftertaste of despair still clung to his mouth. He tried his best to offer a somewhat more cheery smile than what he was managing before.

"Ah...Ah don't know. Ah suppose, maybe...Ah don't know if ah got wha' it takes," Chauhn confessed, but he tried to strike a more hopeful tone, "Could you really teach me those things? Ah would...Ah need to learn tha'...M'lord Yizhaq wants me to learn to read and write, 'n' ah only know a few numbers 'n' the first letter of m'name. Ah would very much like to read 'n' write. Even do magic, sir. Tha' would help me wit' Clurie."

Speaking of which, he glanced over to his little brother, who was enjoying a particularly entertaining corner of paper. He had already made ashes out of one entire corner, and he was busily stuffing the collected bits and fluffs of ash into the little satchels attached to his overalls, stuffing them into every pocket he could. It acted as insulation against the cold (or at least, that's what he liked to think. In honesty, he liked the smell and feel of the ash). It was a mindless habit, one that made him smile with the happiness of a small child.

"It tastes like...Like...Like smoke and like heat, like dry and thick at the same time, Clurie said, straining for an accurate description, but his efforts where quickly discarded with a shrug of the shoulders and a grin, "Like that."

Then to her other question, after discussing something with her Grimm, Clurie gave a tilt of his head, forcing his flighty thoughts to gather for one more round of thinking. Before long, he lifted up a victorious finger, "Burn things!" he announced, and then, with another laugh and crackle of paper between his hands, he cooed, "And telling stories."