Caged bird blues [Closed to Forcie and Ouroboros]

It was a dark Chicago night, though the wind was still as strong as it ever was. Cars drove about, and people went on with their menial lives, as if that were all they knew. The museum was a little cold, but when you could possibly survive in the arctic waters with nothing on, that was an unimportant aspect really. From up high the young looking male would watch with half interest, hazel eyes scanning over the place as the meager guards would watch this go along. Why he was sitting around a musty old museum, barely out of eyeshot of the guys below was one reason; he was kind of bound here in the first place. When an ancient curse shackled you to a sword, it was somewhat hard to go about your usual life, and that meant that he would have to keep doing what he was doing.

One of the uniformed below would cough lightly, and that caught his attention more than anything. He needed to do something, but when you could only walk about the alleyways outside, it grew boring, and he liked it much more when there were people walking through. It was nice seeing all the mortals that would walk through, some of them looking so young and vibrant and if only someone knew something that would be able to undo his ancient curse. So he would have to wait, letting the night sounds serenade him, no, he would take advantage of his limited wiggle room. That was how his life always seemed to be once these things called Museums decided to make his cage a spectacle.

This was the usual drudge for him, as his sword was moved to around three different places, and in the end it was only these strange humans that talked about the blade and its strange magical aura. Much like those that had sealed him so long ago, ones that saw him only as a demon that needed to be sealed away, but they knew nothing. They had not found that perhaps their only friend was murdered by a callous human, one that probably saw them as nothing more than a bag of blood to slaughter. Anger once again welled up within the Daemon, though perhaps that was why he was bound to that weapon in the first place. If anything, it seemed that he had asked for that in the first place. In the end he could only return to the prison of his weapon, one that was cold, but at the same time it was safe.

Even if it was the thing that kept him bound to this place for what felt like all eternity, it was likely his repentance, for the river of blood he had carved that day within his rage. From his sanctum he could watch the humans go about their business, and that was about it. If anything, he hoped something interesting would happen, perhaps a thief would break in, take the blade and bring the daemon on a wonderful adventure. Life however was never that wonderful, and for now all he had was this."I swear this place is dull." He mentally bemoaned.

The local museum had a habit of randomly bringing in new exhibits. In a world full of strange things, these exhibits had a potential to definitely be worth the price of admission. Over the years some things had been dug up and laid waste to those that defiled their resting place. Cursed tombs and magical artifacts had the tendency to take offense to being removed from their burial ground. Yet, despite numerous deaths, disappearances, and other events that most people consider strange or unexplainable, things were still done as regular. Though some wised up and started consulting actual experts. The illustrious Hale family were well known experts. As such the local museum would go to them to examine their artifacts to see if they're safe before putting them on display. However, the financial troubles were causing them to rush such displays and not even informing the magical family.

Ailill was a member of this family. Some of its members grew tired of being ignored. Others still kept a close watch over the usual business so they didn't have to clean up a bigger mess later on. Ailill was one who would often take advantage of their business. Normally whenever they discovered an artifact of magical nature they would confiscate it and bring it back home for further examination. Ailill would steal it under the guise of such a thing. Though sometimes he would get caught. Ever since the first time he got caught his family was wary of letting him participate in the family business.

It was nighttime and he was sneaking around the museum. A new exhibit was up. Once again done so without them informing the experts. So he was going to get a private look at it himself. If it was something worthy of his time then he might just take it. Ailill was using some of his skills to sneak around the guards and get to the room where this new thing was located. He found it and approached the thing. It was a sword, and an impressive looking one at that. Was it magical in nature though? That's what he was here to find out. He began the examination, and it yielded results. More than he expected. He was interested now. Very interested. Ailill reached for his dimensional pouch and opened it up. He then began to extract something from it. He quickly pulled some things out and placed something in his jacket's inner pocket. From there he began the efforts to steal the thing. The security system around it was disabled with some magic work and the glass was removed. He then carefully reached for the thing to grab it. All the while keeping track of everything he could sense.

So Diluvium would sleep, or he would try to sleep at any rate. This brings up the question if a Daemon could really sleep, or if they simply put themselves into a state of suspended animation or something like that. In all actuality he had no idea if he could sleep, or just let his mind float around in blackness until images would flash across it, some of them allowed him to interact with what was shown. Nothing would interrupt his little nap thing…until he felt the strangest energy permeate the air, something that he felt was familiar in some way. Awareness like a rubber band would snap back, and what he saw was a strange male standing before the display case of his prison.

For a moment the Daemon would watch from his sealing prison, but in the end this stranger breaking into the place made him curious and perhaps that was enough to goad him into taking a physical form. If this guy wanted to take his prison, Diluvium had to be sure that he was not going to end up in a worst place than here, and that was really saying something now was it. It only took a mental command really, and soon enough he would appear in the shadows in his human guise. It felt nice having the occasional breeze blow against his skin, and send that odd shiver up his back. One thing that stuck within his mind was why this human would want his blade, other than to pawn it off or something like that.

He would have simply killed him or something like that, but another energy appeared, and it was….strangely alluring. He let his body liquefy and slowly slink along the shadows, silent as possible as he went to get a look at this strange energy source, which ended up being another intruder, but this one was blonde and perhaps different than the one trying to rob the place blind. He could also tell that this one was not human, but what he was eluded the daemon more than anything, as he pondered over the question that continued to roll through his mind and he followed the blonde for whatever he did.  Maybe he would try to claim the blade for himself, and if that was the case, would it be better than being stolen by the mage?

The water mass would slink to its next shadow, around a corner where the Ethereal Being and mage would not be able to see him, and that was where he would watch from around the corner. Not taking any action yet, seeing as how he was unsure what these guys were planning, and if they would somehow end up fighting it out.

In the dead of night a reasonably wealthy man was stealing an old sword from a museum. Kind of sounds degrading don't you think? But, here's the thing that will change how you think of this. He was not doing it for the money. No, he was doing it for the intrigue. You see, this sword was special, and he wanted to find out why. The energy that radiated from it could only be sensed by those that could tune themselves to such an energy. Ailill Hale had snuck in and began the extraction process. A few simply spells had taken care of any issues that may arise. This would be an easy job. Or would it? He had gotten past the security and reached for the blade. Then, he was interrupted by a strange individual.

Ailill looked at the man who had came in during his thievery attempt. Now who was this exactly. He could sense the energy that this individual possessed, but why was he here? This was certainly no guardian of the sword. Ailill knew how artifact protectors operated and this did not match that behavioral pattern. Not museum security either. "Huh, just what is with this fella? Don't tell me he's after this thing as well." he was thinking that to be the most likely circumstance.

He sighed, then addressed this stranger in a quiet tone so that his voice wouldn't carry and alert the guards or anyone. "Who are you exactly? I know you're not security. Are you a thief who's stealing from this place perhaps?" he asked him in such a rude, yet sophisticated manner.

He narrowed his eyes for a moment, trying to catch every word of their dialogue, but it took all of his short attention span to get it. Sure he could complain about who got the blade, but then again whoever listened to the water daemon anyway? Not humans that was for sure and then again he did not quite listen. “Please don’t destroy my house, please don’t kill my firstborn, and please don’t make any moves on me on the first date.” It seemed that no one listened to anyone, but that was human nature. One thing he could tell from this small exchange was that one was rude, but in that attractive way and the other was…attractive the word was supposed to be, though he was not sure. When your vocabulary was limited by who you met in a museum, slang was not one thing that you could pick up on well.

Part of him wanted to walk in and tell them that he did have a choice in where his home went, but then again would they believe and listen to him? His young male form still slunk within its shadows until he finally grew a proverbial pair and appeared. Hazel orbs scanned the area of anyone else that would make this more of a problem before coughing loud enough for both males to hear him and smiling rather widely, wiping away a small strand of hair from his eyes. To anyone with a magical sense, they could tell that his energy signature was the same as the one coming off of the blade. ’Excuse me, not meaning to interrupt your dispute or whatever, fun as it seems.” The daemon interjected, a little unsure if he was saying it right. First one would perhaps wonder what someone his age was doing in the museum, and second who he was.

Ailill stood there, his hands were now resting upon the display case mere inches from the sword he was about to grab. Oh, he would have done so already and gotten out of here, but he got interrupted. Some person of some sorts be bothering him. He was just not in the mood for it. The young mage was considering just grabbing the damn thing and leaving him there bewildered. Forget this guy, he's just a minor nuisance. Besides, if he were to attempt that then it may lead to action of this person's part. He could probably find out what he was really after. Ailill Hale lifted his hands up and began to reach for the blade. That was when the individual spoke to him.

Oh my. He too could sense the energy. How interesting to know, and he was after the sword as well. Should have seen this coming. The guy started to move forward towards him. Ailill reached for what was in his pocket as he drew closer, preparing to possibly fight this person off just in case he was forced to do so. Then he saw him collapse slightly and start coughing up blood. What, what was he sick or something? Was this guy seriously going to try and take this sword from him all while coughing up his own blood? If he wasn't careful, he'd soon be signing his own death wish. Not like it mattered. Ailill wasn't feeling threatened by this guy. This sudden display of sickness mean't nothing. He could just proceed as intended and be done with it. This only mean't that carrying through with it would remain an easy task.

Ailill reached up and grasped the handle of the sword. At that moment the energy from it fluctuated and he heard a noise. It did not come from the sword however. It was the sound of a cough. He thought it was the guy hacking up more of his own blood, but as he glanced over at him he saw something else. Or rather, somebody else. A child now stood in the room with them. This boy was looking at both at them as he spoke. Now who was this kid, and what was he doing here? More importantly though, why was he emitting energy identical to the blade that Ailill was now holding? No, this was no ordinary child. If even a child at that. A magical creature, it must be. One who is connected to this blade. Ailill spoke back to him. "Yes, do you need something perhaps?" he asked of it.

So another guy was here too? Ouroboros cursed himself for not acknowledging it sooner, being as observant as he was. Though he was rather happy to be humbled by this experience. It proved that he relied far too much on his essence and energy sensory and not enough on his actually five senses...this was a flaw. It will be corrected. The thieving man would ask the young man what he needed something. Surly this man was not this ignorant, if he was then he truly had no reason to wield that blade. Ouro's eyes narrowed as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, he found himself perplexed by the sophisticate. He was impressed by how well he carried himself, but in the same respect he despised him for being so standoffish. Ouroboros quickly remembered Bastion claiming the same of himself. He couldn't be THIS bad could he? Regardless, Ouroboros stood back up and let out an unimpressed huff through his nostrils.

       "Don't play stupid, you know the general idea of his being here. I left him unaccounted because his energy and the energy of the blade are identical...a mistake of my own accord I do confess, but I can't help but wonder..." He mused to himself. He began to examine the blade that the thieving man held. It was a fine blade, rather standard but somehow tastefully made and adorned with runic markings making it look rather elegant. Mistaking it for a common blade would not be difficult to do. However, that energy...there was no mistaking it. It was subtle, and what's more it reacted upon being touched by the thief. This blade was far from natural. "Careful...that blade is reacting to you..." Ouro said, simply making the observation to warn the perhaps unsuspecting thief. He then looked to the other "human" that shared an energy with the blade. He did not seem to be much younger than Ouro's body was, something he noted with great interest. He also kept the energy's reaction to the thief crammed into his thoughts as he observed even more. Finally he had come to his conclusion, and with a solid face he looked at the younger "man".

       "So either this blade was made from you, or you from the blade...or perhaps it is a method of binding...I would wonder but I have reached my conclusion." Ouroboros said. His eyes were glowing dimly as he scanned over the blade one last time. With a bored sigh he pushed his hands through his hair and continued on. "Being as those are the only two options. There are several trials you could attempt. For example, if out thief here ran with the blade, would he be able to run far with it before it stopped in mid air, not allowing him to take it any farther...or would you simply be forced to move with the sword in some while he ran with it? I doubt we need to try it however. The blade is obviously very old, and it is rather easy for a human to mistake for a common blade. The nature of your energy itself reacts to the touch of this other man, showing a mutual or parasitic relationship is a viable option with the one who wields the blade. Since this energy flux occurred as he touched the blade, it allowed me to observe that you're energy was not a different energy, rather it was the same. Also, you are quite young...glowing with the aspect of youth actually. The blade itself is quite old though I've noticed....hm...I'll spare the rest of the intricate details and simply state that it is YOU whom is bound to the blade, not the reciprocate....the details are rather boring, but the blades reaction to the touch of this gentleman was enough to tell me suchm. Bound to a blade, rather boring...however I confess I feel bad for you...if I am correct... I cannot imagine that it would be easy to find a wielder in an age where guns are the weapon of choice." Ouroboros said. To him it made perfect sense. The blade seemed to be the primary reactor to the young man, and not the other way around.

      "So what is the nature of your blade...or of you rather? The ever clichéd devouring the soul of the one who wields it? Perhaps simply the concept of being a weapon of mass chaos is enough to sustain you? Granted I do not know your purpose...but I know you are interesting and for me to admit this means you are quite the feat." Ouroboros concluded as he looked back to Ailill. Hopefully this human is all for joint research, because if not it would seem as if Chicago would be burying one of it's own.  "I also take into the account that you are stealing a sword that looks like a common artifact when there are much more valuable and more open pieces on display...thusly you must have felt it's energy as well, or you're a foolish thief. I don't suppose you'd be inclined to make life easy and allow me to research it as well, would you?" Ouroboros was all ready for this guy to try and make a run for it, to which was a fools errand, but the man didn't need to know this. He could remain blissfully ignorant for all Ouroboros cared. All that mattered now was getting to observe the blade first hand.

The daemon raised an eyebrow, considering the mage for a moment with a mute amusement. If anything the magical variety had become more mouthy, or maybe humanity more complacent in their opinions, or maybe they just changed altogether. With two wanting to look over the blade, and likely only one proving the optimal wielder, that meant that only meant that he could only allow one to have his prison, but who would that be. His hazel orbs shot over to the one that spoke first, the mage that now held his blade, and it seemed that the refined arrogance about him was as pronounced as ever. The daemon shifted weight onto its left leg, pursing its lips as a thought ran through its mind. Something within him felt strange, especially as he looked upon the man with their fingers curled around the handle of his weapon, as if they held his very essence.

Perhaps he could try and touch the sword, carry it around with him and whatnot. Still, the last time the daemon had attempted that his found that it burned his flesh within human form, and somehow the damage transferred between his false and true form. Betwixt his scheming the other spoke up, and damn did he like to hear himself talk. While one would attempt to understand what that man was saying, the daemon found himself lost less than half way into the long diatribe. Part of it made sense, but as a whole he was so confused that it was painful, that made his brain thing hurt a lot more, or whatever this human form had. Diluvium ran his fingers through the dark brown mess of hair atop his head while trying to make sense of what this man was saying.

What recaught his interest was the man wondering about him or something like that? His cocked his head to the side, arms crossed over an adolescent seeming chest as his contemplated what to say, and it that would even make much of a difference. ’Devourer of souls?” He mused out loud. ” Never been called that before, and never tried eating a soul, but I knew a guy that ate souls before. Said they weren’t all they were cracked up to be, and tasted kinda funny.” He managed to ramble on, perhaps pleased to have what seemed like intelligent company. The Daemon may have not been the most intelligent of beings, but then again it felt as if humans were not exactly the most intelligent either, even for those that wasted their time walking around museums. ”Wait a minute, don’t I get to have a say in what happens to the sword?” He cut in finally remembering what he was doing.

What started off as a simple task in the thievery of a magical sword had turned into an annoying encounter. First came the one who had ran in on him while he was about to grab the sword. Then he started coughing up blood just as soon as something was about to go down. Ailill Hale could sense a specific form of energy within this individual, and yet thought little of him. His behavior and mannerisms were so utterly meek. He wasn't interested in watching this person come undone before him. The young mage had much more important things to be doing. These energy sources had to be researched. Like the one coming from this sword that he now held on to, and the young boy that shared it. This one was far more interesting. He was hoping to see something like this sometime soon. Maybe not here, but it's still worth it. Ailill was reminded of some of his past encounters with magical creatures during his various trips to all sorts of places. Those lost islands in the Carribbean Sea that yielded treasure, but nothing he was there for, the island near greenland where he met the elf princess, Uzak Gokten and that strange valley, and others. He couldn't remember them all right now. Nor could he be bothered to try. There were more important things to do.

The thief was attempting to tell him off about something he didn't care. Ailill could only snicker at what he was saying. He could easily tell that this guy was covering for his own shortcomings, and the desire to laugh mockingly was a strong one. "Yes, clearly you know what you are doing. Tell me, did you sense him before or after you started choking on your blood from trying to confront me?" Ailill started into the blade, not the person whom he was speaking to as he said it. He saw his reflection upon it. The energy within it illuminated the reflection. It fluctuated in conjunction with the supposed boy's own energy signature. Ailill thought over his present options. The most likely possibility was that he would have to bring the apparent child with him if he wanted to take the sword. Not something he was interested in doing. He had already brought back one magical creature from his trip to that island located near Greenland. Having to convince his family to allow the elf princess to be there had been hard enough as is. If it weren't for Aaron's own intrigue things would have been for naught. This was looking like a lost cause if that were the case.

What kind of creature was this boy that was bound to this blade though? If he knew, it would make things so much easier to determine what was what. Perhaps he knew already and was just not properly recalling. A being tied to the energy of a sword. That narrowed down the options to a select few. With some, he could simply walk away and would be fine. He could also kill him and stow away with the blade. With others though, the connection was so established that they were inseparable. Killing the being would only result in the energy being lost and the sword becoming just a normal blade.

Ailill's thoughts were interrupted by exposition. The guy was talking, a lot. So much for coughing up blood. Ugh, and so much of what he was saying were things that Ailill already knew. Some was just painfully obvious. Was he just slow, or liked to hear himself talk? This little speech of his went on for far too long. He had more important things to be considering than this speech. Than this pretentious speech. Oh how he wished this guy would just shut up already. When he finally did he was relieved. Finally, it was over. It was such a pain to have to endure. He was about to start talking when the boy spoke up. Ailill decided to answer him first. "Why of course you have say there fella. It is yours to some extent after all. I may not be in need of taking it anymore anyways." he told him somewhat truthfully. He had something in mind. A way to deal with the potential problem that may soon arise.

Now was the time to get going. Well, almost time. First, he had to take care of something. Something he kind of wanted to take care of. Ailill turned to the other thief and spoke to him. "Really now? Did I even have to hear everything you just said? And, and could you be any more condescending right now? If you're going to talk about laying claim to this here blade that I'm already holding, and yes I am aware of what the energy is doing, then perhaps you should consider that I was here first. I'm the one that did all the work too. All you have done is interrupt and be annoying. You're not needed here. At all." He said as he added some emphasis to his words by removing the sword from the display. He held it steady in his right hand as he grasped something else in his left which was behind his back. Ailill was expecting the guy to attack him, and if he did, he was ready for it.

What was unfolding before him confused the daemon for a moment, and at the same time it reminded him of something he had seen before, long ago in fact. He mused over this with certain intensity as they seemed to fuss amongst themselves, something moving through his small mind at immense speeds. Eye lids screwed up in concentration as he seemed to ignore anything else that was going on around him, and his mind was so focused upon its single task that nothing else would have mattered within that moment of intense cognitive function. He heard some of the things that were directed at him, but in the midst of his mind, it was categorized and lost as soon as he heard it. Perhaps this would have been considered rude to any human or anyone working off the etiquette system most humans seemed to work on, but he was not confined by human parameters of action.

”Hrrrrmmm” He hummed low to himself musing over what this familiar feeling was, and once again getting nothing but a headache. This was the first time he had gotten two headaches so closely within a span of time, and it seemed to be all because of these two guys that were bickering amongst themselves. Even when directly questioned about something, he was so lost within his own mind that it seemed to take a second seat. Something however got through his dense mental barrier, and that was the question of if he wanted the guy to take his blade to god knows where. Did he really want the mage to take his blade and do whatever with it, or let the blonde take it? It was also that strange blade the man summoned, one that caused the core within his chest to shudder, and glow a bright red that shone through his flesh.

There was something menacing about this male before him, and at the same time it sent a tingle through his body. ”I actually do not know who I want to take my blade.” Diluvium admitted craning his head to the side and raising one eyebrow before letting his neck return to a more comfortable position. ’I don’t know who both of you are, but you both seem a bit stand offish, and I don’t quite understand what’s even going on. You claim that he is committing a crime and you are a witness, but did you not also break in to witness this crime?” Bit by bit he sounded more confused than the word before that as his brain ran this over like a steam plow that was a few cogs short. If anything he was more thinking out loud.

”Great now my head hurts.” The daemon whined to himself lips turning into a slight frown as he ran fingers through his dark brown hair and tried to make sense of everything. ’Can’t we settle this in a more civil way, with a rousing game of dice or something. I’m sure I have a pair of them somewhere around here.” If they did not agree with the daemon was unknown as he would seem to get over his headache and seemed to skip over to a small corner, where he fiddled until the corner would give out and reveal a small little hideaway. If the mage had truly disabled anything problematic he would be fine, and then the youth would dig around until he frowned and pulled out what looked like a pack of playing cards. Hazel orbs considered it for a moment, expression still disappointed but it was better than nothing.

The youth shook his head and dug deeper until he found it, the two rough plastic dice that he let fall into his palms. ”There we go.” He said with a certain chipper tone, hiding his secret stash once again, before skipping back to the two that he had hoped were not fighting. ’”See told ya so. Took them off a couple of tourists or something once, and hid them away. I have no idea why I did it but seems like they would come in handy now.” If they even listened to him was unknown, considering that he now sounded partially insane.

His plan to deal with the intrusive one and any problems that he may bring forth. It was working, just as planned. He fell for it simply by overlooking some obvious details of the surrounding area. He laughed a bit at the thought of this. This whole thing was just ridiculous. Ailill was torn between still trying to take the sword, or just leaving it here. Well, there were some actual benefits to it now. The amount of information he could potentially obtain via this majestic blade and the spiritual being that was attached to it was pretty vast. That was something difficult to pass up on, though he was sure he would have to fight for it now. If he did succeed, he would definitely make an enemy of this guy. Not that he cared. For this guy would have more than just him to deal with.

"Yes." he started with in his cynical manner upon seeing the actions that were being undergone. "Yes. That will totally help you. I mean really, offering so called negotiation all while threatening me with your little blade there will help you immensely. I know you just want this sword and this whole thing of you seeking to help this spirit that's attached to the blade is nothing more than a charade that's not fooling me. I'm not even going to bother continuing to ridicule you for your arrogance." he then spoke calmly, dropping the bitterness completely
"You see, the security cameras are pointed at you. All I have to do is reactivate the alarm and you're the one who will be identified as the criminal here." he finished speaking to let that sink in. Ailill sighed and said one last thing to him. "Now just accept this defeat, and leave."

This guy could claim that Ailill was arrogant, condescending or however many other things he could think of to refer to him as. It would not be true, and if he were to make such claims, it would simply be out of foolish pride or jealousy. It did not matter what he thought though. Not at all.

He turned towards the child looking spirit as it began to speak. He was not interested in having to listen to them discuss things anymore. His proposal for how to decide on who gets the blade left him taken aback. A game of dice? Did he really just say a game of dice? "Well." he said as he considered the options that were present for this idea of his. "First I must ask. What's your name, and what are you per say?"

      "Well...I appreciate the honesty." Ouroboros said with a smile. His eyes flashed and in an instant his Ethereal energy had activated and any security camera in the vicinity had begun melting from the inside out. "Dice? I suppose...after all..I assume we can act civil..." Ouroboros said, unsure of what the meaning od the word was.. He let his blade down and drove the tip into the ground. His activated powers granted him certain insight that made his eyes narrow as he looked at Ailill.  "You're little rant about a charade is rather cute, but ultimately you are operating under an assumption. I never claimed I would help this spirit. You know nothing about me and yet you act as though you are above me. You don't even know what I'm capable of." Ouroboros said, he would not digress into another rant, this Hale would not hear him, and as such Ouroboros would not waste the time of day. The Spirit, however was one worth paying heed to.

      "I will confess while I did not intend on freeing you from your bond, I did not know the nature of the energy I followed. I will not lie to you that I also have very limited knowledge on things of the Occult, although I have allies that are assisting me with a similar sealing curse. I will also be quite clear right here and now. I will not promise you freedom. Your freedom is pending upon the reasons for you being sealed in the first place...I cannot allow you to run freely if you're a genocidal maniac." He said to the spirit, he had completely turned off Ailill after his asking the creatures name.

      "So...I am rather...embarrassed to confess that I have no idea how this game is played." Ouroboros said as he cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his Hydras skin. He tried to not let his embarrassment redden his face. He thoroughly hated that he was so out of touch with the current status quo of society. He walked over and made himself less hostile, thought with Misanthropy in the ground he could easily alter the situation whenever he wanted. So far this had been a situation where it was all bark and no bite. Thankfully Ouroboros' bite was far more fatal than his bark. "I haven't exactly existed for very long...there are a lot of foreign concepts to me." He confessed. He seemed more mellow now, at least the hairs that had been standing up on end had gone down. He somehow felt like he was...being observed. He was not worried as the nature of his energy was safe, though it was still unnerving.