Things They Won't Talk About Later //Tundra and Verdana//

[Verdana]

The creature was cautious about the bread. Shay would have been surprised if he wasn't. If it were her, she probably wouldn't have touched the stuff for fear of poisoning. Fortunately, she had not poisoned it. She couldn't think why, only that it might not be a good idea. She suspected that the Power had had something to do with it, but she wasn't going to ask. In any case, the male obviously knew that she meant no harm (no immediate harm, that was) and ate the bread as she watched. She observed his strength returning, and he got to his feet. Shay was ambivalent about this, but when he spoke, her face darkened.

Demion... she muttered, trying to recall the name. It tickled her mind, but she couldn't match it with a face, or even with a description. She must have heard it in passing, or forgotten about the owner. In any case, the name was singularly unhelpful, to Shay's great frustration.
Who is he? Why exactly did he want me dead? It was part of the job to dig up dirt on one's employer before embarking on the job. She always did so. It was half the fun. To do any less, in her opinion, was just asking to be murdered.

He didn't answer. Not immediately. He did, however, offer a name. It may not have been his name. It may have been fabricated, but it was something to address him by. Shay nodded.
You'll already know my name, of course. You tried to kill me. There was some reproach in her tone. However, before anything else could occur, Kuar was setting off down the hall.

Shay started, indignant.
Where do you think you're going? she demanded indignantly. She followed him with ragged, tired strides which countermanded her strident voice. However, he was headed to the room with the Fire, and so she didn't complain. The Fire always burned, and the room was warm and smelled pleasantly smoky and hot. Shay liked this room. She found Kuar leaning against one of the walls, looking worn. Shay watching him, silent. The Fire was the only source of illumination, and her face was veiled in shadow.

To be honest, she'd been caught off-guard, and this room, the whole situation, was a strange reversal of roles. It confused her. It upset her. She raged against it and wished that she could comply, simultaneously. What was she to do?
Let him stay.
Shut up, she thought. I'm making this decision for myself.
She thought. She considered. She scowled. There really was no other option.

Take a seat, she said curtly. Any one but the one closest to the fire. You will never touch that one. I'm going to go and get some salves and bandages for your wounds. If you touch anything, I will cut off your big toes and shove them so hard into your ears that I will burst your eardrums. Is that understood?

Without waiting for an answer, she stalked off, returning a minute or two later with the necessary equipment. She wasn't much of a nurse, but she wasn't lacking in practical experience.

[Tundra]

Kuar's tail flicked as he listened to Shay speak, though he was almost to tired to catch any of it. "Damion, I actually didn't find any real hold on him, at least of his past, only that he wanted you dead for assassinating his firstborn. Not that I think about it I killed his third in a fit of anger because the man decided I wasn't worth paying. Then again what assassin wouldn't" He sighed forcing himself away from the wall. He really was unsure about the whole situation. And with the overwhelming need to go to sleep, he was beginning to wonder of being here was the best choice. Flicking his tail again he walking into the room and standing near the fire. Its warmth seeping into his skin. It felt good, and as much as he didn't like to admit he liked fire more then usual. If he wasn't so tired he would have taken a small flame from the fire and held it in his hands to warm up faster. But for now just being there felt good enough. When Shay returned with medical supplies, he was a little reluctant to even let her near his wounds. Then again he wasn't going to resist, he was just to tired.

His side had clotted back up and was no longer bleeding, but then again it could reopen with the slightest of movements. His wing itched, which, was a bad thing. It meant that his feathers were healing into the wound and he was going to have to pluck them. Like hell was he going to let her touch his wing. Of all things he had, his wings were his life. He knew how to tend them, just needed the supplies. Though, he was curious how this woman would tend the wound on his wing. After all he had fixed the major wound he had given her, why not let her use her medical knowledge to help heal his? He let out a yawn unwillingly as he took a look at his wing. He was careful as he plucked out the small feathers that dotted the wound. Each one gave a stinging pain Kuar hated even more then the wound itself, but it had to be done to ensure the healing of the wound. Not that this would hinder his flight, which was lucky, it just wouldn't be as...clean. After a bit the feathers were cleared and a clear sight on the wound was visible. The bloody feathers set in a clean pile so not to scatter easily with movement. He returned his wing to a natural position behind his back before looking at Shay again.

[[The gash is on the opposite side to the damaged wing btw..]]

[Verdana]

Shay mentally took stock of the equipment in her arms, and reminded herself how to use each piece. Bandages. pretty straightforward. Thread and a needle, but if she could avoid it she wouldn't be playing with that. She'd used it recently to stitch up a gash in the back of her own head. It hadn't gone too well. She couldn't remember much about that evening, including if she'd sterilised the needle or not. She supposed that the creature should survive. In theory. In any case, the needle was only for emergencies. Some special salve that seemed to work wonders on most creatures. She decided to use it on Kuar, and see what happened. Either way, she won. If he survived, good for him. If he died, that was one less problem on her hands. There was a bottle of very strong alcohol for cleaning (and perhaps a sip or two in between), a cloth, and a piece of three day-old meat in case she got hungry while she worked.

She put her supplies down as the demon did his thing, cleaning his wing and plucking the feathers, which seemed counterproductive to Shay, but she wasn't going to argue. When he was gone, he faced her almost obstinately, as if daring her to mess up. She was not impressed.
Turn over. Let me see that gash, she said. She waited for him to do so, and then went to work. She walked up, her approach gentle and calm, as if she were soothing a spooked animal, and then, before he could react, she uncorked the bottle of alcohol and poured a good third straight into the wound. That was going to sting, clotted or not. She spoke not a word to distract him. It didn't seem necessary.

She waited a while, for the alcohol to sink in and for the writhing to stop. Then she grabbed his side with surprising force for such a diminutive person, and exposed the wound. She lifted the cloth, and methodically (and not too gently) swabbed every inch of the wound, until it glistened cleanly and pinkly below her. Her hands were smeared with blood as she fingered the exposed muscle. Her fingertips traced ribs without concern. No stitching would be necessary, just some firm bandaging. This she did, with dexterity and neatness, but very little concern for Kuar's feelings. She pinned the edge of the bandage, and admired her handiwork. It looked very neat.

Now, what to do with the demon? There was no real option of sending him out. He was dozing and exhausted. Shay pointed to a couch.
You'll sleep there.
That was it. No apologies, no hospitality. Shay walked away then, but only to her couch. She curled up in it, watching him cautiously. He was a stranger in her home. She wouldn't leave him alone. She wouldn't even close her eyes.

[Tundra]

Kuar found himself wanting to lash out at her in sheer pain from how she was going about this. If It hadn't been for his own self control, she would have found herself with a few more wounds to tend, this time probably needing stitching. He ground his teeth together as she cleaned the wound, not really wanting her to get a satisfaction of pain from him. Then again it hurt so bad he couldn't help but squirm. Though when the whole ordeal was over, he stared at her angrily, but at the same time thankful. His tail flicked in annoyance as she walked away. Pulling himself off the floor where he had fallen from the pain. He legs had just given out from underneath him, then again who's wouldn't with that amount of pain. He looked over at the couch she had pointed at and wondered if it was even a good idea to fall asleep.

He had to admit though, the pain quickly seeped away under the bandages, and better yet it numbed enough to where he could sleep with ease. He let out a sigh and walked over to the couch laying down as best he could with how his wings were. He ended up though; for the comfort of it, with his back to Shay. It bothered him, but he listened, and kept his senses sharp. His tail flicked lightly as he ran his claws lightly through his wing to clean out blood. It helped him fall asleep actually, eventually sleep setting in, though light. He would wake at the drop of a pin, or any other noise. Then again he was always like this, unless he was sure he was completely secure.

[Verdana]

As the evening turned to dawn, and the strange creature slept on her couch, Shaygrin thought very hard. She told herself that she did this to ward off sleep, but in reality she had no choice in the matter. In reality, this scenario was strange, and Shay was not at all ready for it. For about ten years (a piffling time, really) she had been quite alone. She had found her cathedral (which, although she didn't realise it, held many symbols for her) and had settled in, killing and committing crimes when she needed to feed herself, and setting wards when she had energy. She had created a fortress, secure and devoid of any life, save her own.

Now her fortress had been breached. A stranger was inside it. A male stranger, to boot. And although she had not taken him in of her own will, as such, she has still taken him in. He slept, on a couch which was technically not rightfully hers, and she wasn't attacking him. She fingered the cushion on her own chair in an absent, tentative way. The scent of old parchment and spices was all but gone from it, and although Shay commanded herself to be relieved, she was in fact rather regretful of it.

It was a reversal of roles, she decided, sent to test her. She should fail the test, and kill Kuar while she had the chance.
No.
But then there was the small matter of the voice in her head telling her not to. Shay knew from experience that going against that voice was a very, extraordinarily bad idea. She had no choice, and she hated that. She'd have to keep him.

Dawn's light peeped in through the fog, setting shimmering stars of colour aglimmer on the cobbled floor. Without quite realising it, Shay began to lose the battle between awareness and healing sleep.

By the time the morning light illuminated the wall behind her, Shay was strapped neatly into slumber.

[Tundra]

Kuar's tail lay limp behind him, hanging over the edge of the couch. One wing curled up around him as such to be almost a blanket, the other folded neatly behind him. The feathers just barely brushing against the floor. Then again he did have a 12 foot wingspan. Each one of his wings extended his own height, well just a bit under. He himself stood around 6 feet tall. Kuar's eyes slowly slid open at the light of dawn. He was always awake at dawn, having been his tribes way. His side was hurting, then again who's wouldn't after such a harsh cleaning. He blinked a few times feeling as though he had been watched though out the night. Though that would not surprise him, he was surprised he had even fallen asleep. Then again he had used a lot of magic yesterday, and that alone took a LOT out of him.

Flicking his tail lightly he lifted himself up so he could sit. His arms rested on his knee's as he gave a small cringe of pain from his side. He looked over at Shay and couldn't help but smile slightly seeing her sleeping in the chair. She must have stayed awake watching him, making sure he didn't cut her throat in the night. Then again, who's to say he couldn't do so now. But he wouldn't, no, they had a common enemy now, and who's to know where this man would strike next. Flicking his tail he felt hungry, but personally didn't want to go outside, let alone wake Shay to ask. He knew she needed sleep, much as he had, and most of all he didn't want to lose his life. He figured she probably would jump at him with a hidden dagger and kill him. Which reminded him, he looked down at his bracers and removed them, reviling very distinct scaring on his wrists. Yes he had been suicidal at one point, but that was because he had lost so much so fast. It had brought him down, and he went to suicide as the answer. But each and every time he made the cut, he found himself saved by someone, or something would intervene. Maybe it was fate saying he was meant to live, but whatever it was it had pulled him though to get over the depression.

He took one of the packs that lined a small belt and emptied it of its contests. Mostly cleaners and small tools used to get into small places. He started messing with the mechanics of the bracers. He had to make sure the gears were clean, and free of all water. Last night was only a result of his missed day of care, at least that's what he blamed it on. After awhile the blade slid out with ease, nothing hindering it at all. Kuar was glad for this, but figured if he kept at it he would damage the mechanics somehow. Placing one back on, he worked on the other. It was more complicated, since the blade was indeed designed to be longer, and stronger. It took him awhile longer with this one, his claws playing a role themselves before finally it slid out with ease.

Looking back at Shay, he was sure she would wake soon. If she didn't she probably should be woken. Kuar didn't want to mess something up and cause both them to die of horrible death by something Shay had laid to catch unsuspecting enemies. Then again, he really didn't want to be close to her if he woke her. Finally Kuar let out a sigh and picked up a rock from the floor and threw it to where it hit Shay right in the center of her head. If she didn't wake up form that, he'd be a bit shocked. He sat, waiting for the angry response from Shay

[Verdana]

Shay dreamed. She always dreamed, and the dreams were hardly ever present. She dreamed of pirate ships and raids and lootings and plunderings. She dreamed of betrayal. She dreamed of scientists, looming over her, silent and grim, with scalpels and saws clenched in latex fingers, the smell of which made her gag through the tube in her throat. She dreamed of friends and enemies, of cold nights alone. She dreamed of flying, of falling, of discovery. She dreamed of warm log cabins and roaring fires. She dreamed of adventures, of injuries, of nurturing hands and the smell of old libraries. She dreamed of love. She remembered love. She remembered a fight. Voices rising, harsh words flying. A knife, aimed at her shoulder, intended to keep her but instead chasing her away. She remembered freedom, and how much freedom hurt.

In her restless dreams, Shay was forced to play out her life, and all the mistakes she had made and regrets she had. Her body was still, but her mind raged against her. She hated herself, but would she have done anything differently? Would she have faced that knife? Would she have jumped overboard when she had had the chance? This was why Shay drank. Alcohol passed a fog of numbness over any such dreams. Drink hadn't been enough that night. And Shay probably would have continued to watch her life spiral out of her control, had a sharp rap right in the centre of her forehead not woken her up.

She was reliving her childhood at this point, and so when her eyes cracked open, she was still aboard the pirate ship. She leapt to her feet, and spewed a tangled, pidgin stream of Sylvan, rather than Transylvanian or another one of her familiar languages. Sylvan was her native tongue and it flowed easily from between her jaws. When she spoke it, it sounded like someone trying to speak three complex languages simultaneously while playing the accordion with their toes, but it also sounded very beautiful. What she yelped, while straightening her clothes and trying to look as awake as possible, translated roughly to this:
I wan't asleep, I swear! I was just listening very hard, that's why my eyes were closed! Caviann was on watch today, not me. He didn't relieve me! It's his fault! Go and find him instead! I swear on my blade, I wasn't sleeping! Please don't throw me overboard again, I still haven't dried from last time...

Her voice trailed off as she realised that she was not on board a pirate ship, and Andurin was not looming over her, staff in hand, ready to dole out punishment. The aches and pains of the previous day returned to her. She was still tired, a bit hung over, and famished. She had a killer headache. She glared at Kuar through puffy eyes, and snarled.

What in the name of the sacred blade did you do that for? she growled. She did not convert to a common language. She couldn't do it without prompting. In fact, she didn't know that her language had even changed. She advanced upon the prone demon, looking murderous.

[Tundra]

Kuar looked at Shay while she ranted about something from her dream then finally realized she was awake. Kuar was curious really, why she was dreaming of a pirate ship and acting as if she had been caught off guard but really he just was hungry. He flicked his tail as Shay finally turned towards him and asked why he had thrown a rock at her. "Because I would rather not be next to you when I woke you, for obvious reasons. Also, your speaking in your native tongue. I can..understand it..but never could speak it minus a few words when needed." He stood up and stretched, his wings spreading out. That's when one could actually see the daggers that lined the underside of his wings. It was only when he had then full spread out that the daggers were visible, all were perfectly placed to where if he really had to, one movement of his wing would send the daggers flying at a speed the same as if he had thrown them from hand. Looking back at Shay he yawned before continuing on his last statement "I also woke you, because you were un..restful..you eyes flickered and your hands contracted as though you were having a nightmare...not that is my business. And finally...I woke you because I'm hungry.....and it being your place, I don't want to mess [censored] up and suffer your wrath."

He flicked his tail before sitting back down with a small flop. His entire body hurt, then again, it was usual. He hadn't had the best sleep himself seeing as he was actually used to sleeping on a bed big enough to support his wings. His side seemed though to be doing well thanks to Shay, not that Kuar would say this. He examined his wing, a light mule mist drifting from his fingers into the wound killing any infection or bacteria in the wound before sewing the skin shut, though the rest would have to mend itself later. Flicking his tail, he looked back at Shay wondering what her answer was going to be.

[Verdana]

Kuar was not scared. This was a mistake. Shaygrin liked to wake up on her own. She did not take well to being forcefully ejected from sleep. One could say that she reacted in an adverse manner to this type of treatment. Put simply, she was not pleased. To make things worse, she suspected that she had embarrassed herself. Shaygrin did not feel embarrassment (at least, this is what she would insist if asked) but she still didn't like being put in positions which generated the emotion in most people. Her eyes narrowed with hostility. She resented the presence of the languid (in her eyes), lazy creature, who was invading her house and, even worse, disturbing her much-needed sleep

She liked him even less when he spoke.

Her language reverted back to the common one, which was, as far as she knew, English. Shay grimaced. Changing languages was instantaneous and effortless. It happened automatically when someone addressed her in another tongue. However, it felt as if someone was trying to shove a dictionary through her right ear every time. For this reason, she could only listen to one language at once, or she'd get a splitting headache and incapacitate the source of her pain swiftly and effectively. She narrowed her eyes as the male addressed her. He understood Sylvan, but could not speak it. Evidently, he had some Incendius traces in him. Or something of that ilk. Shay was in no mood to puzzle it out.

You will never wake me again, unless my life is in grave danger, Shay stated coldly and now in English.
It is also no concern of yours what happens in my sleep. My sleep is mine. If I wish to share it with someone, I will.
However, she did not berate him for his hunger. She was hungry too. She pursed her lips.
I will feed you, she said after a pause. But only because the sooner you regain your strength, the sooner you will be out of my hair. Don't move, don't touch anything.

And with that, she walked out of the door and left.

How she did it was a secret that Kuar would wait some time to learn, but slowly but surely the cathedral started to fill with the smell of food. After about half an hour or so, Shay reappeared. She looked slightly ruffled, and smelled faintly of ale.
Follow me, she grunted, effortlessly taciturn. She turned, and led the way to a dining room. The long table was covered with food. Slabs of meat, whole fowls and staring fish were heaped onto platters. Vegetables smothered in gravy sat beside loaves of fresh bread. Bowls of fruit were dotted about. At one end nestled cakes and pastries and desserts galore. It was a spread for a banquet, not a meal for two. Shay took a plate, and started to pile it with food.

Help yourself, she muttered.

[Tundra]

Kuar flicked his tail really not interested to much that Shay was practically scolding him for waking her. Then again he was used to it, he had been lectured by his master one to many times NOT to wake him up. Though being the kid he was back then he did it anyway, and ended up pinned by daggers to a wall a few times. It made him chuckle slightly remembering, but all it did was bring back the fact that his master was dead. He flicked his tail as Shay said something about food, he ignored the later mark.

While she was away cooking, Kuar decided to look around. The room itself wasn't bad, though could use some repairs and cleaning. For a woman she did keep this dirty, then again in such a big place it wasn't hard. Standing he walked around the room, examining a few things as he passed them. Of course of all the things he noticed, was the heavily enchanted pieces of parchment paper off to the side. He was curious who had cast the spells since it appeared as though the spells were strong. He shook his head slightly feeling a bit light headed after accidentally reading some of the words of one. He moved away from here, worried he might accidentally activate one of the spells or whatever was written on the papers.

He Examined the weaponry of the room, each one having its own intricate design and each having its purpose. Flicking his tail he noticed out of the corner of his eye something large and black. Curiosity instantly took over as he walked over to examine it. It appeared to be made of wood, and was definitely an instrument of some type. He was tempted to press one of the white keys down to see what would happen, then again he also had a feeling that wasn't the best idea. He took a look at the gash that was on its side, wondering what could have caused such damage to such a pristine object. Though he couldn't pinpoint anything so he turned his attention away. He did notice the armor in the corner, it wasn't old either. It made Kuar question where Shay was from, then again he was well aware she was not of this world.

Then again neither was he. It was about then that Shay walked back in and called for him to follow. He was surprised by the amount of food she had made in such little time. He smiled slightly making himself a plate. Mostly meats though, due to his natural diet. He could eat vegetables, but they didn't set well unless with liquid. He was cautious still though of the food. He didn't want to end up poisoned by something, which he wouldn't put past shay after her rant this morning. Flicking his tail again he sat down, a bit away from Shay since she seemed to be in a bad mood. He was saying more to himself unknowingly in his own native tongue "að minnsta kosti .. hún hafði ekki drepa mig ... hún hefði getað .. en ég get verið ánægð núna ... hún virðist .. mikið meira gaman þá hvernig Demion lýst henni ....." He flicked his tail sniffing the meat before taking a bite.

---

*"at least..she didn't kill me...she could have..but I can be glad right now...she..seems a lot more nice then how Demion discribed her....."