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 Posted: Sat Dec 17, 2011 11:35 pm
A Little Short on Change
LOCATION: An inn in the south of Shryegoed
TIME: Evening
CAST: Dorian Arelgren and Evan Gabel
SUMMARY: A lack of funds leads to a strange meeting
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Posted: Sun Dec 18, 2011 11:03 pm
Rain fell steadily from the numerous clouds that covered the moon. The winter night was unforgiving in both its chill and its wind, even on a rainy night such as tonight. Every person around seemed to be rushing to their homes for cover, using whatever they could as relief from the cold water. Unfortunately, Evan had neither an umbrella nor a sufficient jacket to keep him out of the rain. Rather, he stuck a hat upon himself in an attempt to curb the rainwater. A fairly unsuccessful one.
In the distance there was an inn, lights shining as a beacon of hope. Though Evan wasn't sure if he could afford a room, he just knew that buying one was certainly better than lying in the rain. He didn't want to get a cold after all. Running inside, he noticed that he was not the only one with the same idea. Many others were sitting on either the floor or standing in the corner, only a select few actually in line for a room.
"Um," Evan's voice came out shakier than he intended, "anyone know how much a room is here?"
"How about coming up here and asking eh?" the innkeeper asked, motioning for Evan to step forward.
"Right," Evan said under his breath.
He stepped to the front, disregarding some of those behind him.
"It's a hundred kid, pay up," the innkeeper said.
"A hundred?" Evan's expression became muddled.
"Well I've got fifty right here-" Evan slapped a handful of bills onto the table-"and I can just owe you another forty later! See that's one hundred right there!"
"Hey, hurry up! We want rooms too!" The voice came from the back of the line, having grown steadily since Evan entered the inn.
"Son, you can't even count to one hundred, let alone pay that much."
Hey!" Evan snapped, "I can count just 's good as you 'r anyone else here. My brother taught me arithmetic you know."
Well that was true, half-true actually. Lander tried to teach Evan arithmetic, but he was never quite interested. Actually, he kept trying to drag Lander into the outskirts of the farm for "adventure time".
An exasperated sigh came from the innkeeper, a balding man of at least four, if not five, decades. He was massaging the bridge of his nose as he tried to remain calm in the face of the man--no man would be too generous for this male. A better term would have been "boy" because his appearance showed an immaturity from his sagging pants to his messy hair. He reeked of a naivete that would have been almost endearing had he not been so stubborn.
"Fascinating tale son, but unless you have the funds necessary it still won't matter to me or any of the other people behind you." The innkeeper gestured to the other customers that were occupying the area, just as desperate as Evan to find a nice room to weather the rainy night.
Evan's voice became a grumbling as he fished into his pockets for anymore money that he might have had one him. A piece of silver, of gold, perhaps bronze? He kept digging, but found only a piece of lint and a hole on his pocket, presumably widened by his searching.
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Mon Dec 19, 2011 11:19 am
Lucien Arelgren had separated from his offspring when he headed for Mishkan . The junior Arelgren was required to wait in Mishkan for his father's return, the latter being on Butterfly Crow business to retrieve the late Agatha Arelgren's belongings in their Mishkan residence. Dorian traveled into the deep south of Shyregoed to avoid meeting anyone "recent" and to plan of how he would privately consult Dragomir or Wickwright the next time either of them would meet. His fear of Obscuvos was idle now, almost dormant, largely in thanks to his father's confident presence and the existence of the Butterfly Crows. Lettie's absence was slowly fading from him in how it consciously unsettled him, and as he trekked through the Shyregoed snow, cold from the curse of winter. While Dorian was inconsiderate to his own emotional feelings sometimes, he was always aware of his physical well-being. For that reason, he ambitiously continued his journey southwards.
The destination of arrival was a good, humble inn, far from civilization but closeby to a tavern. With a small smile, he opened the door with an air of comfort and warmth. The interior would have been quiet if not for the ruckus caused at the innkeeper's desk. As Dorian weaved his way through the masses of others still waiting in line (receiving curses on the way and giving apologies of his own) he was surprised to see a foreigner with a childlike demeanor. Dorian deduced that he was not native to Shyregoed for his unbecoming wear and accent. Most likely a rural man. His hair was mussed in more places than the North boy, and his clothes were saggier as well. He seemed dirty in some places, but Dorian excused this as a traveler's inevitable trait, for being on the road made himself somewhat unkempt as well.
The exchange between innkeeper and foreigner wasn't entirely hostile, but measurable frustration could be felt and Dorian wasn't certain whom it was he should be directing his sympathy for. It was difficult being an innkeeper and moreso being a foreigner. It was more unfortunate being poor on the road, and the foreigner seemed almost pathetic judging from how he weighed the gravity of his situation. Fortunately, Dorian was an Arelgren, and Arelgrens found solutions.
Dorian coughed, gathering the attention of the innkeeper.
"Excuse me sir, but he is my servant." Dorian offered with a slow drawl, placing an elbow on the desk and leaning in towards the innkeeper. "I was late on arrival here; he was supposed to buy a room for the both of us until I actually arrived here, but seeing that he is incapable in his own stupid wit, he forgot to wait for me."
The Arelgren heartily slapped the foreigner hard over the head.
"You will be properly dealt with later." Then, turning to the innkeeper: "A room for two, or one if those are occupied. Here. Two-hundred shillings, that will be satisfactory for two according to your prices. He may sleep on the floor."
The innkeeper immediately scowled. "You think this is funny eh? Green eyes. The garb of a nobleman. A stupid face. You must be an Arelgren, your father caused me enough trouble in his youth. Ain't believe a word that mouth of yours is breathin'."
Dorian opened his mouth to defend himself, but the inkeeper continued onwards: "...but they also say Dorian Arelgren is a different one. Upstairs, Mathilde will take you to your room."
The Arelgren heir stared in disbelief, partially because he didn't think Shyregoed's outskirts would know much of him (but he supposed that the social forum was quite expansive) and also due to the innkeeper's unexpected kindness.
"Whater'you lookin' at, boy? There are other people behind you."
The innkeeper waved him off, and Dorian turned and smiled at the foreigner, pleasantly so. The latter was only a few centimeters taller than him, but boasted an incredible figure nonetheless. A good servant.
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Posted: Mon Dec 19, 2011 9:47 pm
Distracting the attention of both Evan and the innkeeper (mostly Evan) was a loud cough of a blonde-haired boy who was opposite of Evan in nearly every way. Where Evan was tan, the male was fair and where there was ratty clothing, he had something noble with deep colors. Of the most striking things, was his long, purple coat. Rather than one solid color, there were intricate designs of black with silver diamonds and even a red ribbon tied on the arm. He was a fascinatingly foreign creature, like nothing he had ever seen in Auvinus. Where did someone buy such clothing? And even if they found a place, what would they need to buy it for? Evan looked down at his own brown, crudely stitched shirt for comparison and furred his brow at the amount of difference between them. He was like a unicorn...
"I was late on arrival here; he was supposed to buy a room for the both of us until I actually arrived here, but seeing that he is incapable in his own stupid wit, he forgot to wait for me."
...with the tongue of a viper!
Evan winced at the slap, body tensing itself in order to keep from punching the man in retaliation. Who was he calling stupid of wit? Or for that matter, a servant! Evan couldn't just stand there and allow some stranger to pay for him. Even if I can't afford a room myself, Evan thought to himself, biting his lower lip. He gripped his weather vane tightly in his left hand, trying hard to contain his anger for a few more moments as the innkeeper allowed the both of them to pass.
As Evan followed behind the purple-clad boy he shrunk a little bit. Though Evan was taller in stature, he felt smaller for having needed to take money out of the man's pocket, if indirectly. If his grandfather taught him anything, it was to never ask and never expect to receive, especially from a stranger of all people.
With his free hand, Evan rubbed the back of his head, shooting a sheepish smile toward the man.
"You didn't need to've done that you know," Evan said bluntly, "I can't accept such..."-he wasn't quite sure what to call it-"kindness."
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Tue Dec 20, 2011 2:30 pm
"You didn't need to've done that you know," the taller boy finally said, "I can't accept such..."-he wasn't quite sure what to call it-"kindness."
Instead of exhibiting a humble demeanor or a kindly smile, Dorian merely shrugged his shoulders. Usually, Lettie would be the one smiling first or mentioning a: "That was awfully noble of you, Mr.Arelgren!", but Lettie was no longer his companion and therefore he dared not to make a visible reference to her memory, even if the boy knew nothing about the Grimm nor Plague. It was the sentiment that mattered the most to him. It was always sentiment that was held in the highest regard to Lettie too.
"It's true that most wouldn't do the same for me, but I like to prove society wrong," the Arelgren lied. "It's Dorian Arelgren to you, lad. We best be moving."
He advanced up the inn stairs and found, as the innkeeper mentioned, a young woman most likely by the name of Mathilde who awaited him. She was a petite creature with her hands neatly folded over her apron, and her lips were thinned and lacking a smile. He didn't blame her, there was nothing to smile about in directing strangers to their rooms. When she saw him, she immediately sidestepped from the door she stood before and opened the door quickly before slamming it shut again. The Arelgren was speechless, unsure if a "thank you" or an "i-is that my room, good woman" would--no--should suffice--but before he could decide, she disappeared downstairs in a flurry. Dorian shrugged for a second time and opened the door that she'd shut. What was her hurry anyways? He'd ask her later to strike a hearty conversation, perhaps, but she didn't seem to be the type that held interest in sticking around to chat idly.
The interior was brightly lit with a candle in each corner, much more high-class than most. He was relieved to see that there was not one but two beds that inhabited the chamber for the sake of the poor stranger he'd recently made his servant. He sat himself down on a mattress, slightly bouncing on it before throwing his body over the entire mattress with a deep sigh.
"Quite lovely, isn't it?"
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Posted: Wed Dec 21, 2011 12:59 am
"Well it's Evan Gabel to you, not lad," Evan replied as he sped behind the blonde to catch up.
Dorian Arelgren. Dorian Arelgren. Dorian Arelgren, he repeated to himself.
Such a strange, strange man. Trudging up the stairs, he noticed a young woman, not much older than himself who he presumed to be one of the employees. She seemed nice, if not a bit hasty. She didn't even stick around to say "hi", thought Evan as he stared at the shut door. She must have been in a hurry.
When he turned around however, he was much more taken by the room.. It was so bright and spacious compared to his room back on the farm which was barely big enough for the two beds necessary. He was used to living in a cramped space, even more so due to his journey over to Shyregoed. He rarely dipped into his funds for housing, usually choosing to bare the elements wherever it was legal to do so. Since it wasn't too cold yet, he didn't think it was problematic to just pull a blanket over himself on a park bench during the night and even felt a bit warm being inside the well-lit room. Well, not that he would trade this safe haven for the rain.
"This place's nothing like Auvinus!" Evan exclaimed, "the room looks like it's made for a king or something. Not even grandpa's room was this big."
He stepped closer to his bed, setting down his large rucksack as well as his weather vane before sitting down to face his benefactor. Was this a regular thing for Dorian? He wasn't as enthusiastic as Evan was, though he supposed that it was to be expected being rich and all.
((OOC: Will edit tomorrow when not braindead.))
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Dec 21, 2011 10:27 am
Dorian nodded in slow acknowledgement to Evan Gabel. The name "Gabel" was as unfamiliar to him as he was to this particular region of Shyregoed. He scrutinized the sturdier male in the generous candlelight, and found his features to be more childlike, especially when animated. Evan, he noticed, was also a chatty fellow and Dorian almost found the aspect appreciative. In this current section of his life, he didn't have much to verbally report as he did to mentally inquire. Perhaps it was the lack of Lettie or his father's absence. If astronomers could see how the stars aligned, he wondered what they'd think of his star, the scorpion.
A putrid smell brought him back down to Earth.
Dorian's fingers twitched in alarm. He hadn't smelled this aroma since Ezekiel North presented the blackened arquebus, and the Arelgren was positive that something in this room--no--something from Evan's side of the room was deathly plagued. The smell was stronger than the arquebus's. Quietly, he picked up a candle and its stand from beside his bed and gradually made his way across to Evan's side, following the unbecoming scent. He sniffed the air like a bloodhound until the guilty party was found.
A weather vane?
He hand't noticed it before. Evan Gabel had indeed carried a weather vane into this very inn in the company of an Obscuvian, himself. If Lucien returned to find Dorian in the company of a Grimm, he wouldn't know what he should say. The Butterfly Crows found Grimms to be the most troublesome of victims, and the Obscuvians wanted them for a devouring purpose. The man was too much like a child in his fantastical musings to be able to properly defend himself, unlike Ezekiel North, who was quite the horrifying shot. While Dorian had confidence in the North boy, the Gabel was a different story altogether.
"Nevermind Auvinus or kings," Dorian snapped. He pointed with a shaky finger in the direction of the metallic instrument, plagued. "...where did you acquire this, Grimm?"
Evan Gabel would be miserable.
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Posted: Wed Dec 21, 2011 9:07 pm
"Man if I had a room as big as this I'd-" Evan was promptly cut off by both Dorian's voice and a very shaky expression.
For some reason, he seemed to be alarmed by Lander's weather vein, pointing a trembling finger over at the smoking object. Was it the smell? Having carried for quite a while Evan had grown used to the scent of decay. To him it wasn't any worse than what he had to shovel on the farm, so he didn't take much notice. On the other hand, quite a few people seemed put off when he was passing them by...
But why did Dorian want to know where he attained the object? Did he want a weather vane of his own? Of what he knew (or how little given his lack of reading comprehension), Shyregoed had no need for such apparatuses since they were not farming territory. Surely this area was suited for other trades was it not? Or maybe he would know how to get rid of the smell himself...
"Grimm? What are you talking about?" Evan furrowed his brow as his attention turned over to the object of scrutiny. The weather vane looked even more eerie in the dim candle light. "It's just a broken weather vane. I know they don't have them where you live, but this one used to be used at my farm all the time. Least..before it broke."
He trailed off, looking a bit solemn as he thought about Lander and the fact that he had no luck finding the man so far. He wasn't in the capital nor anywhere else in Auvinus, the main reason why Evan was in Shyregoed despite the long journey and lack of funding. He was running out of options. He had hoped to meet someone in a similar position as Lander, but no luck.
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Dec 23, 2011 12:53 pm
Just as he expected. Like Ezekiel, Evan knew nothing of Plagues nor Grimms. If the House discovered that he'd been in the company of a Grimm and made little to no attempt to convert the said Grimm, he'd only present himself as incompetent before them. Alas, he had his responsibilities as a Butterfly Crow as well. If he could thwart the Gabel boy--turn him in to a different faction with the guise of it being the Gabel boy's own fantastic idea--he'd be given security by his own will. The fact that his father took the repeater with him on his journey North only strengthened Dorian's alibi. He had no means of force to use on the Gabel, and the best he could do was to keep him under servitude. Whether Evan figured he was joking or not could be confirmed with the payment of shillings. After all, his father did advise him to hire an idiot upon departure. He didn't say, however, to hire a Grimm.
The Butterfly Crows need third parties at a moment's notice. Urchins will do, never nobility. Someone who has yet to learn more about you at all, foreigners work best.
"It's...nothing," Dorian muttered. It would be to his advantage that Evan Gabel had the wool pulled over his eyes.
"Now then, where did you say you were headed, Mr.Gabel? We have a change of plans, as you will be working for me now. Don't fret, it should only be a temporary standing."
Then with a soft smile: "I will pay you nonetheless. You seem to be on a quest of your own. A search for a missing persons. I am as well."
Agatha Arelgren left behind quite an arcane trail. Labeling her as "dead" was truthfully only a precaution. Lucien didn't know where his wife currently was, or if she was alive at all. He said there was but one clue to follow, and the critical clue was not shared with the junior Arelgren, for good reason, he hoped.
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 12:51 am
"If...you're sure?" It was more of a question than a general statement as Evan knitted his brow. What was with Dorian's sudden mood swing? He wasn't all that familiar with people other than his family so he couldn't put his finger on why Dorian said what he said or the way he said it. Was he hiding something? The blonde was exuding a strange air about him, as though he were hiding something, but Evan could never quite tell. He hadn't run into anyone who actively tried to hide things from him (or if he did, they did a good job of it).
He tried not to think about it too hard and instead, he concentrated on the blonde male as he was now. There was no point in dwelling on what happened moments ago. It was probably nothing, just like he said. He swung his legs against the side of the bed, looking over as Dorian attempted to change the subject.
"Everywhere, nowhere. Just trying to look for someone y'know?" he said, eyes moving up to the ceiling. Strangely, he didn't seem to be bothered with the change of plans. Or perhaps he simply forgot Dorian's accusations of stupidity from earlier. Dwelling was a waste of time after all.
"Oh, are you lookin' for your bro-"
Evan stopped himself.
"Where will we be going?"
He realized that it wouldn't be a good idea to pry, not when he wasn't ready to reveal anything of himself. No one else knew about Lander and he didn't intend to talk about his pilgrimage with anyone he didn't have to. If someone asked why he was looking for the Imperial Guard, he would simply tell them that he was looking for "someone close". Sometimes, the name "Lysander" would slip out, and he would have to spin a tale that was eerily close to his stories. Lysander was an old friend. He was a hero. He promised to meet Evan somewhere. The reason they were split apart was because of a great fight. Sometimes he just told people that he went where the wind took him. They were all half-truths, something that Evan thought he could get away with if only because Lander wasn't the only thing he told half-truths about.
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Feb 05, 2012 3:05 pm
Dorian Arelgren crossed his arms, fatigue making his usual clear mind suffer. Evan Gabel's inquiry was something he didn't expect coming. Bro? Brother? The Arelgren didn't have any, unless, of course, the Gabel was referring to Dorian's Obscuvian brothers, but the latter doubted that the boy would know of his affiliation with the House upon first meeting. He could understand the boy's curiosity in where the two would be headed. Yet, Dorian couldn't help but smile at realizing that he'd evolved. Before, he was naive enough to ensure that the opposite party could empathize completely with his situation. Upon joining the Butterfly Crows, Dorian learned the beauty of secrets and the creation of them. He could try a few on Evan.
"Oh, I won't be going anywhere--you will, however. There is a particular lady of interest of mine in Mishkan," Dorian softly said, smiling as he revealed a small antidote vial from his pocket. Thoughts of Linda usually evoked a gag reflex from him, but knowing that he wouldn't have to make direct contact with her was satisfying. He glanced at Evan once more. "She was looking for one of these--it's a poisonous medicine if you'd like to put it that way. It's poisonous if used for the wrong remedy, and the good lady requires it. You won't be needing to meet with her."
He shuddered at the thought of anyone being put in the position of having to make Linda's acquaintance. He could never leave anything behind, including sentiments of her. The red ribbon on his arm was proof enough of his persevering behavior.
"You will only need to make a quick drop off, it'll be fun, I promise," Dorian said, lighthearted for the first time in a long while. "Mishkan isn't so bad. The Imperial Guard will be present, best you don't do anything to anger the emperor while you're there, though I doubt you'd have the ability to unless you are secretly an Arelgren."
He collapsed on a nearby bed and kicked his legs up and removed his boots. With a lazy hand, he sprinkled a handful of shillings produced from a boot bottom onto the floor, whistling cheerfully.
"Two hundred shillings for your travel expenses and reward. I ask that you meet with me again in Auvinus at Butterfly Grove in thirty moons. If you cannot remember it, just look towards the sky. If the hunter is present, then the day has dawned. I will allow you to be a few days late if necessary. The manor is a my mother owned on a small hill. It is currently empty."
"Further details will be given to you then. If anyone in Mishkan gives you trouble, tell them you are a friend of Ezekiel North, show them this, and they will leave you alone."
A second item was dropped onto the floor, a scrap of paper with a symbol inscribed upon it:
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Posted: Wed Mar 28, 2012 8:45 pm
"Oh, I won't be going anywhere--you will..."
Evan listened to Dorian's instructions as he eyed the strange vial his "master" produced from his pocket. The liquid was foreign to him, looking more like a poison than an antidote of any sort. As Dorian continued, the mission itself sounded nothing more than delivery, but the mention of the army intrigued him. Would there really be army men in Mishkan? It opened up an opportunity to ask about his brother once more, but also to simply see the men in uniform.
"...best you don't do anything to anger the emperor while you're there, though I doubt you'd have the ability to unless you are secretly an Arelgren."
"Well I've never really doubted my abilities," Evan said in reply to the Arelgren. There was the hint of laughter behind his confidence because he knew how easily some people seemed to be angered. It was hard to anger him personally (as was the case with Lander), but quite a few soldiers were different. He could only hope that the emperor would not be the same way.
He cupped his hands to catch the shillings that Dorian handed over (produced from a boot of all things?) and counted them despite Dorian's answer. One, two, three... Of course, by one hundred he faltered and decided to just trust what the rich man told him. He must've been more educated anyway. Evan was never one for the maths, having only learned the bare basics of arithmetic. It was hard to add without the use of his fingers or markers but he could subtract with some ease. If someone told him he was wrong about his addition he would deflect them and storm off (with the goods nonetheless!).
After putting the shillings in an old, leather pouch, he bent down to retrieve a piece of paper that had belonged to Dorian. The symbol was shaped likea "Y" with a circle at each end, like of a triangle (if the triangle was taken apart and rearranged). Was this Ezekiel North another rich person too? He must have been important to have his own symbol. Gabel Farms didn't have one. It was just "Gabel Farms" when they were selling vegetables.
"Yes, right! Ekeziel North..." Evan repeated, folding the paper into fourths. He hadn't paid much attention to the other instructions of when to meet, only where. He hadn't had much of a memory. "Manor on a hill. Hunter. Mishakn, Ekezeil North. Manor on a hill... he mentally chanted. He found that the only way he could remember anything was by repetition of the "important parts", stripping away any details no matter how big or small.
"He's like you right?" asked Evan, leaving his sitting position and leaning against the headboard of the bed, legs crossed, "all rich and everything?"
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun May 20, 2012 11:18 pm
Dorian wearily nodded at Evan's reply, convinced that the Gable boy had imbibed nothing from his warning. He didn't expect him to, but he did want him to. Dorian managed to chuckle in dissonance, the rumbling from his throat harmonizing with Evan's own laughter. "We will...see about that," he mused while brushing off dust from his cravat. He watched Evan receive the shillings he handed over and felt as if a burden had only been added to him, strangely enough. The sentiment of having a servant was to lessen such a burden, but it was not so for the Arelgren's case, for, his servant boy was nothing short of a farmhand idiot. An imbecilic Grimm, to be more specifically noted. He closed his eyes and imagined the look of shock and confusion on the North boy's face upon meeting Evan Gable, and smiled at the image of the eyepatched Ezekiel North in his childish frustration that Dorian wasn't sure if he was capable of or not. Nevertheless, Enfield would be able to help him carry the liquid further until it reached Linda's hands--Obscuvian hands--without him having to personally be present during the meeting.
He was not a servant. He was not an expendable. He was a Butterfly Crow, a rare, imaginary creature that took many guises, some of them being imbecilic farmhands. Evan's next question startled him.
"He's like you right?" asked the boy, "all rich and everything?"
"Ah, he's of a humble wealth," Dorian answered politely. He wouldn't want to present Ezekiel North poorly. The North prodigy had enough idiosyncrasies of his own, and Dorian had no intentions of adding to them. He needed the full cooperation of both parties, so he wove his web well, smiling, jovial, and overall--Arelgren-like. "Smile often and don't comment on his appearances. He is a genius innovator. Now--if you'll excuse me--I must take our rest to prepare for departure at first light."
With that being said, Dorian sprawled over his bed, taking cover in the scratchy cloth that would suffice as a sanctuary for the night. He feigned snoring until he could feign it no longer; Dorian did not want to speak to Evan for he would have to rise earlier than he. He dreamed of a lost colony of Panymians underneath an Obscuvian moon...
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Posted: Tue May 22, 2012 12:19 am
Dorian's shift into weariness went unnoticed by Evan who was more concentrated on forming a mental image of this enigmatic Ezekiel North. He was told not to comment on appearance, but why would that be? Was he ugly? Was that what it was? The thought brought on an inappropriate twinge inside of him because of how much it reminded him of his grandfather. The older Gabel looked more like a leathery skeleton than a person, but Evan wouldn't really consider him ugly in the traditional sense of the word. Perhaps Ezekiel was the same way. An older gentleman struck by the ravages of time. Maybe that's why this guy's able to have his own manor and everything, he thought, his dominant hand lingering over the folded paper.
Though he had folded it, the twinge of giddiness caused him to undo the paper and stare at the symbol once more. While he knew that he needed the rest (he was used to being an earlier riser after all) the last thing he wanted to feel was tiredness. The comfort of the plush bed wasn't lost on his mind nor his body. The softness was a direct contrast to the mattress in his shared room which was both short (his feet drooped slightly over) and thin (stuffed mainly with straw and chicken feathers). Shifting himself, his posture dropped as he held the paper against the candlelight. Most had been blown out so that Dorian could rest in peace (he had to rise early too apparently), but Evan kept one alight so he could try to record what had happened once his journal dried, if his journal dried before he fell asleep.
"Are you still awake?" Evan's question came out as a whisper, garnering nothing more than a snore in response.
His eyes were getting heavy however, leaving little time before his slouch morphed into a sprawled out lay on the bed. Dorian's snores were little annoyance to him, more of a comfort that came with sleeping around others rather than being alone. Outside the rain was still pouring, lulling the youngest Gabel into a deep, much needed sleep. It wouldn't be until morning that the young boy realized that his master was gone or that this night would be the last night he would have a bed as warm as the one he slept in now.
END
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