Legend of Ransera

The hiss didn't bother him, especially given Yshvold was clearly attempting to break himself of the habit at least with regard to Aurin. Physical camaraderie wasn't his forte, but he knew that whatever barriers they could break down between them, the better off their partnership would be. He didn't know if Yshvold would grow up and move on, or if he would cleave to Aurin, who was going to cleave to him. It didn't matter, in the end. He would help make the boy's life better for however long they worked together, and the boy's skills would help him in his endeavors as well.

"Kalzasi is always cold," he attested, a hint that he came from warmer climes. "I don't mind the temperate summers, but the winters can be a bitch." He closed the door behind them. There was no fire in the stove, but heat was rising from the bakery and the residence below so it was a bit nicer indoors than it was outdoors. He wondered if he would have to teach him how to safely tend to a fire or if it would be condescending to try.

Aurin always seemed to be teaching people he cared about something. It surprised him what glaring blanks there were in people's education, but then his own had been strange. Little in the way of schooling, and more in the way of learning how to do a thing so he didn't die.

"I watched you go," he admitted, "but once I started crossing the street to the bakery, I stopped looking. Once I was walking, nothing you did caught my eye and I didn't hear you on the roof. I half-expected you to be waiting at the door already. Sneaky little bugger." He smirked, but it was warmer than most people's smiles. If he just wanted to help, he would have figured out some way to get him help. He respected the kid's skills and that was why he had hired him and was investing in him as a person. He wasn't good at emotions, but he tried to show people by his actions that he cared.

He wasn't going to blow smoke up the kid's ass, so he was honest about how much he had seen and heard. Saying whatever he thought would make him feel good might make the Lysanrin more loyal, but it wouldn't be doing him any favors in the long run.

"Well, look around. It's not huge, but neither are you. You took a closer look at the roof than I did, but I think that would be yours by default. The baker doesn't have access to it. So you can train up there, get a little sun on your pale skin, or lurk and stare down at people like a gargoyle."

"Well, that was easy," he said, smirking, but he was well pleased and not smirking at anyone's expense. That was just how his face worked. "I'll have to return the key to the baker when we leave, but I can speak to the owner today and like as not we can move you in tomorrow. Get some food for the cabinets and anything you might need. Probably some wood to keep it warm at night when the bakery's ovens aren't putting heat off below you."

Hazel eyes tracked Yshvold's movements around the place. If he didn't know better, he would think the Lysanrin was happy, or as close as he got to that emotion. Aurin hadn't minded his presence in the cottage, but this would give him a place of his own, something concrete to work for. He wouldn't want to lose the space, the safety, and the comfort, and so it was likely he would do whatever Aurin needed in order to keep the money coming in and Portions for Foxes on the lease. Perhaps it was cynical to think in those terms, but Aurin had been a self-destructive kid at one point and he knew there was the tendency to ruin a good thing.

Perhaps Yshvold didn't have the same fucked up dynamics in his head, but Aurin only knew his own life. He only had those experiences to draw from when relating to other people.

He seemed to be quite ready to make the space his own. Aurin nodded to himself, arms crossing over his chest as he leaned against the wall. He was willing to wait for however long Yshvold needed before they quit the place, at least until the morrow.

"Leashed?" he asked, not sure whether to be amused or offended. "It's a room for you to make yours. A base of operations. It's not a gilded cage; it's just a flat where you can flop and hoard and not worry about closing your eyes. I think you'll like it and I think you'll work to keep it, and we work all right together. So you can hunt your marks, and you can bring me information, and then we're both happy. But I would suggest you take the long road on your revenge. Train with me. Train with Elwes. Build up your strength. Observe your quarry. Don't tip your hand too soon. Let them get comfortable. Get in, get out. Get it done. Killing people won't get you back what you've lost, but if you need to put them down to find your peace..." He shrugged. "Who am I to judge?"

He turned his head, stretching his neck against some tension.

"I showed the key to the Shinsei of Kalzasi. Before he was a demigod, he was a mage. He can't find where the tether to this key leads... other than deeper down below the Midden, possibly into the Warrens. It's something big and bad and dark and powerful, and we're not going to take it on alone. Not without any sort of knowledge about what the fuck it is. I want to end it just as much as you do, but I don't want to die trying, all right?"

Aurin didn't mind the kid questioning him, but he didn't want to have to explain and defend every single decision he made either. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah, you go back to the safehouse. I'll drop the key off and talk to the owner and I'll swing by tomorrow once I have the key for good and we'll move you in, all right?"