"It wasn't my first choice," Jigano said dryly, catching a hint of Sam's disbelief from his tone. "The light was almost gone and I was more concerned with having a door between me and whatever was coming than the quality of the accommodations. Given what started scratching and gibbering outside as soon as the darkness fell, I'm glad I did." He gave a little shrug. "Besides, there was plenty of water for the animals that served as well for me, and they kept the building warm with their body heat. It could have been worse."
He could have been outside when the sun set, after all.
At first Jigano hadn't cared about the perch - but, as he'd told Sam, he also hadn't known that the perch was what had been attacked. It could very well have been the bookmaker's house that had come crashing and splintering down in the dark, with the bookmaker still inside. That thought hadn't crossed his mind until he was clinging with all four paws to the back of Talys, however. No, what had brought him out into the night wasn't the perch, but fear for his friends, who did care about it, having worked so hard to build it, and his support of their mission.
At hearing that Sam had, indeed, left his door unlocked in case Jigano had come by, a little warmth seeped back into the bard's wounded heart. His expression softened a little, and he bowed his head in gratitude. "I still would have sought shelter there," he admitted, "and been grateful for your care of me, if we hadn't needed a healer so desperately." He exhaled slowly, trying to decide how to answer his friend's question. Was Amalia alright? Since their encounter with Ludo... she might yet be, someday.
"Amalia is... recovering," he temporized. "She will be alright eventually, I think, but all wounds take time to heal. The ones of the spirit take longer than most." He sighed, heart aching for both of his friends and what they had been through - at his and Edy's hands, as much as the monsters' madness. "I might say the same for Rory. He is a leatherworker, a hunter, who lives on a farm in the outskirts. Some of the leather for your book covers might even come from the hides he has worked," he added, trying to find a connection that might let Samuel recognize his fellow natural.
He could have been outside when the sun set, after all.
At first Jigano hadn't cared about the perch - but, as he'd told Sam, he also hadn't known that the perch was what had been attacked. It could very well have been the bookmaker's house that had come crashing and splintering down in the dark, with the bookmaker still inside. That thought hadn't crossed his mind until he was clinging with all four paws to the back of Talys, however. No, what had brought him out into the night wasn't the perch, but fear for his friends, who did care about it, having worked so hard to build it, and his support of their mission.
At hearing that Sam had, indeed, left his door unlocked in case Jigano had come by, a little warmth seeped back into the bard's wounded heart. His expression softened a little, and he bowed his head in gratitude. "I still would have sought shelter there," he admitted, "and been grateful for your care of me, if we hadn't needed a healer so desperately." He exhaled slowly, trying to decide how to answer his friend's question. Was Amalia alright? Since their encounter with Ludo... she might yet be, someday.
"Amalia is... recovering," he temporized. "She will be alright eventually, I think, but all wounds take time to heal. The ones of the spirit take longer than most." He sighed, heart aching for both of his friends and what they had been through - at his and Edy's hands, as much as the monsters' madness. "I might say the same for Rory. He is a leatherworker, a hunter, who lives on a farm in the outskirts. Some of the leather for your book covers might even come from the hides he has worked," he added, trying to find a connection that might let Samuel recognize his fellow natural.
