Private Tales Fireworks and a White Rabbit

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Varys must have stood in front of the cage for a full two minutes attempting to process what he saw in the cage. This wasn't Hob. Hob was... A beast, he thought? The scared, naked female creature who lie curled up and struggling to breathe couldn't have been him, but it also could only have been him.

He didn't have the time to process it further, not when he saw the black liquid around her mouth and in the jar Deingras possessed. His eyes shot open, remembering what jad happened to Jon. He turns, grabbing Deingras by the collar.

"What made you think it was okay to just take him as you pleased? That stuff in the journal, I told you that my Father wrote that, and yet Mayor Bram has condemned Jonathan, barred him from the city claiming it was his handiwork! I trusted you, Orc!"

He spins around to look at what was purportedly Hob. "And whatever you've done to him has caused major damage to both Hob and Jon. Jon's regurgitating the same black fluid and he can barely walk, and Hob's totally changed forms! He's usually male, and the size of two oxen joined at the damned hip! Open this cage now!"

He narrows his eyes at Deingras. "Unless you're willing to have a man's blood on your hands, of course."

Jonathan Burr
 
Deingras grabbed Varys’ hand, dwarfing it with his own, and peeled it off his collar. Scholar though he was, Deingras was still an orc. “Listen to me, young man.” He said sharply. “The things your father wrote about in that journal are extremely disturbing, especially in the possession of a man like Jonathan Burr. I wager he hasn’t told you he was expelled from this University for summoning the very beast that now lays captive here. He has already proven himself willing to go beyond the control of any oversight committee or mentor. You would do well to separate yourself from him.”

He released Varys’ hand. “I did not claim that Jonathan wrote that journal. I informed the Mayor that such material in his hands was questionable, and should be stopped.” He corrected. He looked beyond Varys at the pooka. “I haven’t done a thing but take samples of fur, blood, a small pinch of skin, and given some poppy to sedate it. Are you telling me Jonathan has bonded to this thing in some way, that by restraining his pooka we are killing him?” He frowned as he approached the cage, arms crossed. “Show me where Jonathan is. We should be able to separate the two from the mess they’ve made of each other, but it will require stronger mages than I.”

Varys
 
Varys didn't have the time to interrogate the orc, he pushed past him, and began scraping the salt from the bars of the cage that contained his companion. He wasn't going to comply in assisting the breaking of the bond that was so important to the both of them. "Their bind is stronger than you think, Deingras. They rely on each other in a way I can't comprehend. Whatever you're doing to Hob in here is indeed killing Burr. Hob is a living thing, and he isn't yours to research. I never even showed Jonathan the contents of that notebook, nor had he ever laid a finger on it. There was no reason to prosecute him for this."

He'd been sure to generously layer the grains across the bars, likely due to the heavy resistance Hob put up. If the cage wasn't locked, he'd have simply carried him, er- her out. Clearing the salt from Hob's prison was all he could do until he got Deingras to relent. "The Mayor knows exactly what she's doing. This is revenge." He snarls to himself, looking back at him. "Jonathan can be foolhardy, and maybe at one point he was a serious threat. He's done nothing but help me, and I owe him everything. No matter what he's done in his past, I don't rightly think he deserves to die, do you? He's going to unless we bring Hob back to him."

Trying to temper his anger, he finishes with a bit more calm reasoning, his tone evening out.

"Deingras, I asked you about that journal because Jon and I were on our way out of Volta to end whatever he was planning. What's in that journal made me, and I aim to ensure it's never attempted again. I can't do that without Hob. If not for Jonathan, help me for the sake of magical ethics."

Jonathan Burr
 
“I am a researcher.” Deingras said in exasperation as Varys cleared away the salt along the bars of the cage. “Studying creatures like this is quite literally my job description. Binding to a creature like this can be dangerous, what was he thinking?” He sighed angrily. “If it kills anyone, I’m having you arrested. And get Jon to come back here for treatment! I’ll study what I have. Gods know I took enough from it when I could. I’ll work on researching a cure for this. Varys...this kind of thing isn’t healthy. A mage needs to exist on his own, not shove the consequences of magic onto another being.”

The orc hesitated. He could have Varys thrown out. Instead he went to his desk and withdrew the journal. “My notes you get. The journal is going into the library for further research. Locked up, mind you.” He offered Varys a plain, brown leather notebook. Then the orc withdrew a small key from his pocket, and approached the cage. He opened the door, standing behind the bars.

Hob barely moved. He rolled over and lifted himself up on slender, ivory-white arms...and promptly fell again. “I may have been overzealous with the poppy...” Deingras admitted.

Varys
 
He sighs, resting his hands on the bars as he considers Deingras' words. He knew inside that the Orc wasn't wrong. He knew that Jonathan's bind with Hob was unethical, and likely detrimental to them in the long run. Still... "I know, Deingras. I can't argue your point. Right now though, my focus is on keeping both of them alive. We can worry about the morals of what they've done later. It won't matter if they die, will it?"

Varys accepted the notes with a nod. "I don't have a need for the journal anymore. I was actually going to tell you to lock it up anyways before you swiped our friend here." He approaches Hob, squatting down to look them over with a rather exasperated look. He was still... processing... this change in physique. He wasn't sure why having samples taken would alter his physical appearance, but then there was a lot he didn't know about the creature. He mutters down to Hob, an air of humor in his voice. "Now you're just trying to impress me..."

He scoops the creature up into his arms, thanking the Gods above that Hob was so much lighter. They weighed less than one of Jon's firework cylinders now, it almost seemed. He carries them out of the cage and nods to Deingras, unsure if he'd bring Jonathan back or not. It remained to be seen how bad the situation was, and whether or not freeing Hob would help. "Just one last question. Was Hob... erm... was Hob like this when you got to him?"

No matter his answer, Varys would move out as fast as possible, retracing his steps out of the University with Hob in tow. He'd talk into their ears in a hushed, but urgent voice.

"Hob! Hob! I know you're drugged, but if you could hold it together for me, I could really use your insight here..."

Jonathan Burr
 
“Him?” Deingras looked at the form in Varys arms. “Boy, if you think that’s male then you need to do some serious soul searching in Electric Dreams. That is quite clearly a vulva.” He nodded to the downy area between Hob’s legs. “Yes, it was brought to me like this, and they didn’t note any change in appearance.”

The orc peered at Varys a moment. “What was it like before you came to Volta?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as the elf swept out of the room with the pooka. Hob’s ears were so long they trailed on the floor.

The pooka whimpered, tucking his chin against Varys’ chest. So dizzy...his little pink lips clenched and he scrambled to turn over in Varys’ arms, retching black. It wasn’t just slime, but long stringy lengths of tissue. He spat, opening luminous yellow eyes to look at Varys. They rolled back just as quickly, and he fell unconscious again.

“What in the fuck is that?” The student at the front desk stared owlishly. “Is that...something from the menagerie or a student?!”

Varys
 
Somehow, knowing it was Hob rather prevented him from feeling too guilty about handling the rabbit like creature.

He'd have to tell the orc about the discrepancy later, right now he was exiting the main doors of the University, heading down the steps back onto the streets of Volta. He was more than aware of the looks he'd be receiving from the passer by in the crowded roads, but his attention was directed more towards the retching the creature in his arms was doing. The salted cage was one thing, but Volta was basically the capitol of salt in and of itself. He needed to get them out of here.

"Easy. If you can hear me, just hold on. We'll be out of here in no time."

There was the question of how this Hob would be able to pull their cart, but priority was making sure they got that far. Approaching the main gate, he stopped just short of it, turning instead into the alleyway he'd left Jonathan in. With a bit of luck, Jonathan would be somewhat improved, and maybe able to answer the obvious question here. If Jonathan was too ill to function, he'd have no choice but to rely on Deingras. While he didn't like that idea, he could at least get past the guards with Jon by telling them it was on order of the University.

Turning the corner, he began to speak.

"I have Hob, but there's a small issue!"

Jonathan Burr
 
Jon did not look good. Pale, sweating, and breathing shallowly he looked on the verge of passing out himself. He stared when Varys ran into the alleyway, blinking in confusion at the creature he held. “Thats...no mine...” he mumbled drunkenly. “Got to go...” he grabbed the wall and stumbled out onto the street. He felt so sick being here. Volta had never made him sick before. The air felt like it was crawling down his throat. He didn’t know what Varys was holding but if he didn’t get away from the city...he didn’t know what would happen.

Hob was well and truly out. Jon saw the stares they were getting and awkwardly shrugged out of his coat, throwing it over the naked girl to hide her nakedness. “Really no time...to be thinking of your cock.” He leaned against a wall and coughed up black into his hand. He walked with his hand on buildings like they were crutches. He got mean looks like he dragged black smears across shop windows.

People were most definitely disturbed by the sight. Getting out of Volta was the easy part. Once they were on the plains, Jon was almost crawling. He kept stumbling and dropping to his knees, and lurching up.

Varys
 
They needed to be gone as soon as possible. There would be time to get answers when they were far away from Volta. He follows close behind the staggering Jon as they exit the city walls. The coat he'd draped over Hob was probably a bad idea, as he wasn't going to risk Hob suffocating in his sleep. He slides it off of... her...? body, once they were clear of leery eyes.

Jon was weak, but he was at least conscious. When he was done retching, he stood in front of him so that he could grab onto his legs to help him back to his feet, and then offered his shoulder for leverage in lieu of the buildings they now left behind.

"You were right. Deingras had Hob, but he claimed he didn't know about them trying to get one over on you. I believe him, he seemed as confused as us. Still, somewhere in between him getting swiped away and getting to Deingras, he changed into this."

When they'd finally made it far enough to find the Wagon where they'd left it, defended well by it's position hidden by the towers, he loaded Hob into the back. He nodded for Jon to sit down. "Should be far enough away from Volta for you to start feeling better, if that's what's causing this."

He reached back into the wagon, pulling out the old brown leather jacket he'd worn in Fal'Addas. Unfolding it, he drapes it over Hob's body. "it's definitely hard to believe... but there's no mistaking it's him, Jon."

Jonathan Burr
 
Jonathan leaned against the wagon, watching as Hob was loaded into the back. He felt a little better, but they had to be away from here. Hob couldn’t pull the wagon. It was up to him. Varys wasn’t trained. Jon buried his toes in the soil, happy he didn’t wear shoes. If he had to lean over he’d throw up again. He pushed, and the ground lifted to help them along.

A piercing scream was heard from the back of the wagon. Hob’s back was bent like a bow, legs kicking, eyes wide open. Jon kept pushing, and Hob kept shrieking, clawing at the wagon and breaking several of their jars.

Finally, they rolled away from the last of the copper stained soil. Jon collapsed next to the wagon, unconscious, and Hob lay shivering uncontrollably.

It took until nightfall for either of them to rise. Jon was still out cold but Hob shakily sat up, wiping his mouth clean. “Varys?” The voice was sweet and light.

Varys
 
It was one of the hardest things Varys had ever had to watch, Jonathan struggling to pull them away from the source of their pain. Varys would have given everything to help him. To do it for him. But he was useless again, untrained and unable. This had been his chance at giving back to the two that had helped him find a purpose in his life, and it had ended with both of them unconscious and in pain.

On the bright side, he didn't feel nearly as embarrassed as he would have were they awake when he leaned against the side of the wagon and sobbed. He'd been so eager and hopeful this morning, but all it had taken was less than a full day for him to feel guilty and more alone then ever in the quiet plains. How could he help blaming himself for this? Poking their nose into his own origin had caused this, had given Bram the ammunition she needed. Now, he didn't know if either of them would ever wake up again. If they didn't, what would he do? Go back to living in the street?

For hours, he sat in the dirt, back against the wagon as he stared up the sky and wondered.

Come nightfall, he sat in the driver's seat to better watch for activity. In his hand, he held half of a broken bow, with several particularly long strands of stray hair from Hob whittled down and stretched into strings to create a makeshift instrument. On one of his hands was an old glove that he'd used fire to harden two fingertips of. He strummed at the instrument he'd crafted, occasionally drawing the hardened fingers along the strings to create longer notes.

The melody he played was one he'd been practicing every night for weeks now. When he was sure the others slept, he would sneak away, and play the song for an hour or so. It was sad, almost remorseful in tone. Occasionally, it would explode into brief episodes of hopefulness and nostalgia, only to slowly bring itself back town to earth.

Hearing the soft voice behind him made him drop the instrument in surprise. He turns around and quickly slides into the back of the wagon.

"Hob! Thank Gods you're okay!"

Jonathan Burr
 
Hob immediately put a slender hand to his forehead, ears pinned back between his shoulders and eyes squeezed shut. “Not so loud...please.” He mumbled, looking down at himself briefly. “Oh. Wonderful. Now I’m both weak and about as intimidating as a child with a stick.”

The pooka grabbed Jon’s jacket and pulled it on, shivering as he pulled his ears out of the collar so they could flop freely down his back. At least he was covered up and less likely to advertise to any of the bandits that roamed the plains outside of Volta. He looked around. Speaking of bandits...

“Please tell me the Abbey isnt around. Abbey of Theleema? The mansion on wheels run by a maniac? Because I’m essentially bait right now. You see anything in the distance you wake Jon up, I don’t care if you have to set the cart afire to do it.” Hob gingerly sat cross-legged, pulling one long ear over his shoulder and fiddling with the soft fur. “I guess I owe you an explanation.”

Hob sighed. “This is my real form. When Pookas bond to someone, they take on characteristics of what that person wants them to be. I feed off Jon’s magic, and in return he gets a bodyguard thats...tailored by his brain. He doesn’t sit down and think what he wants me to look like. It’s different for everyone..” The pooka refused to look at Varys, fiddling with his ear. “We don’t all look like this either, it’s just...who I am. The ears are pretty standard.” He flicked one up for emphasis, a nearly four foot length that poked the top of the wagon.

Varys
 
Varys tried to hide the fact that he'd been a bit of a wreck while the two of them were resting. He wiped his sleeve against his face, listening to Hob's words. Honestly thought, the first few sentences that came out of his mouth seemed to just be paranoia. Hob had never mentioned any Abbey, and he wasn't likely to draw attention hidden in the back of the wagon. Perhaps he just hadn't fully awoken yet?

It was a bit... awkward, as the now female hob tried to arrange herself so that she wasn't totally exposed. He understood the irritation behind her voice, but the raised eyebrow told that he believed it was misplaced. "If you're going to tell me all this, at least look at me, Hob..." It wasn't that the revelation wasn't shocking. It was quite so, but after the day he'd had... Varys felt a bit numbed for the time being, easily accepting her explanation. "So this is your actual appearance. I understand." His hair was a mess, and he busied himself trying to straighten it as he spoke.

"I'm not waking Jon up. Not yet, he hasn't been out long enough to be rested yet. I'd give him a few more hours at least. If any troubles show up, I'm fully capable of handling them. In an absolute emergency, I'll wake him up. I assume that'll buff you up again?"

A soft sigh left his lips as he turned and slid off of the wagon to check on Jon, whom he'd slid into his bedroll. He looked back at the rabbit and offers a weak smile. "Did my best with the rescue. I'm sorry I didn't make it sooner..."

Jonathan Burr
 
Hob nodded. “Let him rest. This hasn’t happened since the time he summoned me. That was ugly enough. I was less what I am now and more a formless shape trying to figure out who he was.” He tossed his ear back over one shoulder and set foot on the ground, walking to stand next to Varys. Funny, he was shorter than the elf like this.

Hob knelt and brushed Jon’s hair back from his face, adjusting the pillow under his head. “Don’t. You never apologize to a faerie, understand me? Apologies are a form of contract. I’m sorry means you owe me something...some creature will take advantage of that. I’m just glad you came at all. If Jon hadn’t picked you up in that alleyway...well..” Hob cleared his throat. “What did you find out about that journal?”

Hob looked in the back and winced. Some of the jars they’d gotten from Volta were broken. He busied himself with pulling out some of their older empty jars and storing the contents of the broken ones. Jon would mend them when he woke.

Varys
 
Varys listens silently as Hob speaks of the time he was initially summoned by Jon. The idea of Hob trying to psycho-analyze anybody was a bit far-fetched, but there was obviously truth to it. He couldn't help but wonder what such a creature would find in a body that was created for the purpose of being a vessel, like his was? What was it that he wanted? He knew the answer, but it wasn't something he would ever rightly admit to himself.

As he's scolded for apologizing, his face goes a bit cold as the high emotions that came with with wondering if two best friends were dead or not receded. A contract? So what? After what he'd been through today, he didn't care about things like that. "Some creatures, maybe. I'm under the impression I can trust you a bit more, Hob." He watches Hob tend to Jon for a moment before climbing up into the front seat of the wagon.

"Stop it. If Jon hadn't picked me up in that alleyway, the University wouldn't have gotten my journal, and they wouldn't be able to use it to justify swiping you from under us. I put all three of us in danger for my own benefit, and I had no place to do that. I was only barely able to do anything to fix my own mistake."

His fingers curled tight against his palms as he rested his fists on either side of him, silently infuriated with himself.

"I got careless. I almost got us killed, and It wasn't worth that."

Jonathan Burr
 
Hob shook his head. “She would have found a way to fuck us with or without you.” He said. “It wasn’t you, you just gave her a convenient excuse to finally destroy the last of Jonathan’s wealth. She’s seized all of our money and humiliated us professionally, kids. I hope you like beans and rice.”

The pooka flicked an ear and climbed up to sit next to Varys on the front of the wagon. “You didn’t answer my question about the journal, by the way. It must have been something important if it sparked off that bullshit.” He smiled and leaned against Varys. He looked over at him, waiting to hear what Varys had to say. “Least I’m small enough that we can share the bed back there.”

Varys
 
He shakes his head, a small sigh coming from his lips. He knew Hob was right, but it still didn't make it any easier for him to stop blaming himself. The only thing he could do was put it aside for now. He wasn't any use to Hob or Jonathan when he was moping about and doubting himself. Such behavior would only lead to more mistakes in the future.

He looks over at the pooka as she climbs up to sit beside him. The Journal... To be fair, they hadn't just gotten their answers from that. "My Father was practiced Transmutation like Jon. I'm just the product of that, a body of flesh and bone made from scratch from magic. The Prism... it's a focusing point that's meant to transfer something between living creatures. My guess? He wanted to use me to keep living. It wouldn't surprise me if my body is identical to what his was at this age..."

It was sobering, confronting that the only reason he drew breath was for the purpose of giving life to another who'd been too afraid to die. Now that said person was dead, what did that make him? "The Prism is in The Sand Sea. Obviously we'll have to find more funding before we can even try to get to it..."

He feels the warmth of Hob's body as she leans against him, and he looks down at her with a raised eyebrow. It was silly, but he felt rather bad for all the times he spoke ill of the creature. It's grotesque at times nature wasn't his own, merely a product of Jon's need. He'd judged Hob unfairly. HIs gaze softening a bit, he smirks.

"And here I thought you were much more into women, Hob. I'm absolutely flattered at the insinuation. Had your eyes on me a while?" He can't help but tease the pooka, not nearly as 'prudish' as he had been last they spoke.

Jonathan Burr
 
Hob listened, lifting an ear. She looked up at Varys from her position leaning into his shoulder. “So you were made, not born. Out of Transmutation...that’s something that makes even me uncomfortable. Jonathan has said it’s forbidden. You’d be one of the few cases the University had seen.” She said. “And now we don’t have half the cash we needed to get to the Sand Sea. We’re going to have to stretch this last gift from Volta as far as possible...and charge a lot.”

She sighed heavily. That was going to mean more effort from her in the future, rather than relying on the miracle of alchemy. The pooka looked up and grinned. She looked then. Really looked. “You lost your innocence! Oh, had a little fun in Volta did we?” Hob giggled. Two could play this game.

Varys
 
Varys closed his eyes and shrugged, a soft smile lingering on his lips. "There are only so many places you can get a reasonably priced mind mage to poke around in your head. I wasn't fond of the idea, but I suppose it worked out." He would have shared a bit more than that, but for some reason, perhaps due to the mental state he'd been in at the time, he couldn't really remember what had happened between him and Felissa too well. "I think the dream wandering messed up my memory a bit though. I don't remember the other events that took place that night. Regardless." He shrugs.

He figured that Hob would be able to tell pretty quickly, and he was honestly grateful that Jonathan was still out like a light. Absorbing everything that had happened today with one before the other was less taxing on him than both at once. It didn't hurt that it felt a little more natural to be confiding in a creature that wasn't five times his size.

"I was letting my own personal loneliness effect my thoughts a bit too much. I took some of that out on you before, when you were only trying to help me in your own way. I won't apologize, per your request, but know that I won't be so brash in the future."

He turned in the front seat letting one leg dangle off of the front of the wagon as he faced her. "We bought some candies for you, should be in the back somewhere."

Jonathan Burr
 
Hob laughed, and this time it was a distinctly feminine giggle. She lifted her ears and grinned. “Fine fine keep your secrets.” Hob teased, settling down on Varys lap with her legs propped up over the armrest, arms behind her head. “So that is how you apologize to a faerie. No I’m sorries. No promises. But I accept it. I know I pushed you too hard...not all people are so eager to just cut loose and enjoy life.”

Both ears slid out from under her head on Varys’ lap and stuck straight up. She grinned, that pouty mouth stretching into a toothy smile. “I knew I was smelling sugar! Feed me.” She giggled.

Varys
 
He wasn't exactly expecting Hob to settle on to his lap and get comfortable, but in the moment he supposed he couldn't complain. He'd just mentioned being lonely, and if this was Hob's way of comforting him, he wouldn't reject it. He raises an eyebrow at her, a little grin showing for a moment. "Still, I shouldn't have hit you yesterday morning, and I've said a lot of potentially hurtful things about you thus far. I didn't realize... no, that's not fair. Even if you were truly what I normally see you as, it doesn't excuse my behavior." He shakes his head, brushing the hair from his face before he shifts his body beneath her to reach into the back and retrieve the sweets Jonathan had bought for Hob before they left.

"Chocolate Raspberry Bunnies? I suppose that's quite appropriate now, isn't it? By all means, make yourself comfortable. I'd rather do this now while I can actually carry you, though I've been doing a lot of that today." He unwraps the candies, and holds one out to her, the stress of the day beginning to wane. In the end, he supposed everything would be alright. They'd have hardships, but who didn't have those? He'd lived with hardship his whole life, and now he had people watching his back.

Jonathan Burr
 
Hob giggled. “No you shouldn’t have hit me. But I’m used to being judged for how I look. Or how Jon thinks I should look. It’s not his fault, really...I don’t think he means to make me look that way. It’s possible if I were bound to another, that person would make a worse form.” She pointed out, nestling down and making herself comfortable. She grinned as he retrieved the chocolates. Well well, he was actually going to do it!

Hob was a lazy creature at the best of times, but when Varys dangled one of the wiggling bunnies in front of her, she propped herself up. She enclosed her mouth around his fingers and playfully took the bunny from Varys. She sucked his fingers for a moment to make him squirm, then laid back down. It wiggled in her cheek until she bit down, feeling berry compote flow down her throat.

“I knew he wouldn’t forget...” she purred. She swallowed and opened her mouth expectantly.

Varys
 
It was... a little awkward, to accommodate the barely clothed creature who was now quite eagerly nestling herself against him. It being Hob allowed him to ground his thoughts, thankfully, although he admittedly missed most of what she said to him. He silently prayed Jonathan would remain out of action until this... situation... resolved itself, lest he wind up crushed under some considerable weight.

He slides the chocolate into her mouth, but when she captures his fingers to tease him his imagination admittedly blows out of his control for a half a second. He pulls them out rather quickly. A quick series of coughs to clear his throat doesn't prevent a bit of color on his face. "You... ah... Really do enjoy these, don't you?" He offers her another, biting the inside of his cheek. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're messing with me." He shouldn't find the notion as endearing as he did.

Jonathan Burr
 
Hob watched Varys blush, and giggled at him. She looked up at him playfully and licked her lips, taking the next one out of his fingers. This time she wound her tongue around his finger, licking the chocolate off of it. “Why else would he risk getting kicked out by guards to get me sweets?” Hob said innocently, batting her large eyes. “What? I told you faeries loved sugar.”

She swallowed and licked her lips slower, making eye contact with Varys. “Messing with you? Whatever gave you that idea?” She giggled and hit him playfully in the chest.

Varys
 
Maybe Varys was just happy to have somebody look so grateful for his attention. Maybe it was the events of their trip all crashing down on his shoulders at once, and he needed support. Either way, he found that he didn't mind Hob's wanton behavior as much as he thought he would. Instead, he offered up a snicker at her teasing him again. Sliding his hand away, he ran his tongue slowly across the roof of his mouth, his lips pursing in thought, causing creases along his cheeks.

"Yeah, well..." He isn't really sure what to say, and the soft little fist against his chest doesn't to much to jog his memory. A puff of air leaves his mouth and he meets her gaze with a sly, albeit weary grin. "I'm glad you're okay, Hob. You don't have to flirt with me to make me feel better. I'm just tired of today to take you up on that whole sharing a bed thing." He doubted Jon would appreciate the notion of his Apprentice having some sort of... 'affair' with the Pooka.

Jonathan Burr
 
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