In which Chay makes a Decision

Chay sits on the corner of his bed, his back straight and his muscles tight. The eyes never stray from the bucket in front of him, and his fingers are laced together. Beside him are stacks of books, with notes pressed neatly between the pages. Books on vampires, and now? Possession. Beside that, the stacked and rambling speech of mad men and women.

Wizards.

It's somehow worse.

He takes in a slow, deliberate breath.

This is how Zeke finds him. Zeke moving slowly through the halls and sharing brief words with the guards. Always polite and deferential to them, and them similiarly toward him though less deferential for obvious reasons. He passes them with a small box in one hand. The blue-scaled sith always seems to come with gifts. He'd have offered them to the guards if he did not rightly think that they would turn them down. His green eyes immediately go to Chay, and he offers the other sith a low nod. "Peasce on your nesst kin. Thisss one hasss brought sssomething for you." He sets the box down on the little table in the center of the room where it can be reached but where it will not bother either of them by closeness. Then he moves to the side.

Chay jumps. The hunter, trained to notice such things, did not notice Zeke. He leans back to look up at the tall sith-makar and-- "Peasse to you," he says when he finds his voice, again. "Peasse to you, kin. What is it you have brought?" he asks.

He laces his fingers together, then, and straightens. A more relaxed posture, though never relaxed. Twitchy, those hunter-caste. Twitchy.

He looks to the box, and then to Zeke.

Zeke looks startled to have startled Chay, his eyes slightly wide for a moment, his right claw slightly raised to show that he is unarmed. Then Chay somewhat relaxes and Zeke puts his claw down. His eyes flicker toward the box and then his brow furrows slightly. "Thisss one doess not know for certain. They are a pastry that thiss ones baker said to try. Asss good ass lamb pie ssshe ssaid."

The blue-scaled sith motions toward the box, encouraging Chay to open it. He seems at once both interested and cautious about the contents which he clearly has no idea about.

Chay looks to Zeke, then reaches out, and lifts the box. He holds it for a moment, the muzzle working, working, before he lifts the edge of it.

"Bakery, kin?" he asks him. There's a faint smile there, an almost-smile. But, Chay doesn't smile, mostly doesn't smile. The end of the tail...twitches. "Yesss kin." Zeke looks slightly embarrassed suddenly, his eyes falling to the box. The scent of something sweet and freshly baked pours out of the box, and even Zeke can smell it. His tail shifts slightly to the side. A half wag from the pleasant odor. There are sweetmeats inside, a small variety of them which can be tried. Zeke can not see this of course, but the smell of it is enough to whet any appetite. "Ssshe hasss been very kind to thisss one, offering many sssuggesstionss of thingss which may be good to try here. Ssshe iss the very one who made our lunch by the river."

The other sith-makar tilts his head. "That is good to hear, kin. One is ssure she will have good suggestions," he says. He looks to the treat, and lifts it. Inhales, quietly.

Then, dips in a claw, and places it into his mouth. After a hesitation.

"...the taste of almondss, kin. Almonds and ssomething else," he suggests. His look goes to his claw, which he'd used to taste test.

Zeke tilts his head before inclining it to Chay. "Thisss one hopess that it isss to your liking. Thiss one brought them for you to enjoy. Thiss one knows how trying it mussst be to be... here." He does not say the word 'trapped' but that's what it is. They both know this. He finds the seat and slowly; carefully sits down. Careful to keep himself covered as always.

"...I am going to try ssomething," Chay says, suddenly. He looks up to meet Zeke's eyes. "This one iss going to ask the Hunter to casst out the spirits again, kin. One is going to ask."

He laces his fingers together--presses them together as though the statement did not make him tense. As though he were relaxed. The muscles tighten, the palms press together.

"One will try tomorrow, kin. For now...let us enjoy this. You have brought a great gift and ...we sshould enjoy it."

-End