As the second evening since his friends' disappearance fell, Jigano found himself once more pacing the familiar flagstones of the Guildhall. Though what had once felt safe and familiar now seemed to close around him like a cage, confining and restraining, as he stalked restlessly from shelf to table, from book to book, knowing what he was missing and frustratingly helpless to get it back.
He had sent Isuma to play with Bobi at the Rathskeller, knowing his tension was making her miserable and unwilling to continue to force his pain on his beloved companion any longer. His anger - at himself, his weakness, at whoever had stolen his friends, at Ianto for not warning them sooner - was a sick, slick coiling in his gut, a viper with fangs latched firmly in his spine, but the heat of it had faded to a slow simmer as the frost of determination bled the old, wicked ice back into his veins.
The guild was echoingly empty, with Maea distracted by her new government and two of his members gone, vanished into the trees, taken from underneath his watch. He didn't know where Sam was, hadn't seen him since before the wretched disaster of a scouting mission, but he suddenly had a fierce desire to find his old friend, the remaining member of his guild, his flock of bright-eyed corvids, hungry for knowledge and eager to share it with the world...
The white-haired man spun on his heel, striding out of the Atheneum with a grim set to his features that silenced the occasional greetings he received on the street as he made his way down the familiar path to the domiciles and the cozy home he hadn't visited in far too long. When he reached it he paused to pull himself into a semblance of order, taking a deep breath and forcing some of the tension from his frame before he raised his knuckles to rap lightly at the door just as the last rays of the setting sun faded from the sky.
Samuel
He had sent Isuma to play with Bobi at the Rathskeller, knowing his tension was making her miserable and unwilling to continue to force his pain on his beloved companion any longer. His anger - at himself, his weakness, at whoever had stolen his friends, at Ianto for not warning them sooner - was a sick, slick coiling in his gut, a viper with fangs latched firmly in his spine, but the heat of it had faded to a slow simmer as the frost of determination bled the old, wicked ice back into his veins.
The guild was echoingly empty, with Maea distracted by her new government and two of his members gone, vanished into the trees, taken from underneath his watch. He didn't know where Sam was, hadn't seen him since before the wretched disaster of a scouting mission, but he suddenly had a fierce desire to find his old friend, the remaining member of his guild, his flock of bright-eyed corvids, hungry for knowledge and eager to share it with the world...
The white-haired man spun on his heel, striding out of the Atheneum with a grim set to his features that silenced the occasional greetings he received on the street as he made his way down the familiar path to the domiciles and the cozy home he hadn't visited in far too long. When he reached it he paused to pull himself into a semblance of order, taking a deep breath and forcing some of the tension from his frame before he raised his knuckles to rap lightly at the door just as the last rays of the setting sun faded from the sky.
