Cecile was giggling the whole time as he tried to get himself together. Once he finally managed to do so, she rubbed her eyes, which were brimming with tears since he had her laughing so hard. Feeling much more comfortable with being on the streets now, she happily followed after Bernard, rolling up what little was left over of the bread in the paper bag and placing it in her pouch, which meant Fille had to spend the rest of that ride on her shoulder due to the lack of room.

Cecile couldn’t help a laugh, as she rose to her feet. “I dunno, he may give you a run for your money.” She teased, “He’s like me,” she said, insinuating that he was a mage as well. 

“I don’t know. I’m probably not what he’s looking for, but I still don’t want him finding me. He probably hasn’t even heard what happened to my father, or that I’m missing, or any of that.” She scowled at the whole situation, but dug into the bag and handed Bernard another sweet roll, plopping down onto the bed at his side. “If a man really cared, he’d be out searching for me. Hmph!”

“Oh, well…” She sighed, “I guess I can just hope we don’t run into him. I don’t want to stay cooped up in here all day.” 

“Hm?” She glanced up at him, mouth full. She chewed for a moment then swallowed, shaking her head. “Nah… Just saw someone I’ve been trying to avoid.” She chuckled. “I think I told you about him… That weird guy that used to write me letters all the time. I’m pretty sure it was him, but I don’t want to get close enough to make sure.” 

She got back to her feet and walked toward him, reaching into the bag and producing a sweet roll. “Want one?” 

Cecile excitedly scanned the baked goods the bakery had to offer. The smell made her want to buy just about everything, but she knew she should only buy what she needed. “I don’t know what Bernard likes.” She murmured to herself, tapping her chin with a finger as she looked. In the end, she ended up buying a simple fresh loaf of bread, as well as some sweet rolls. She payed up and grabbed the bag of goods, turning away to head back to the Inn, a smile on her face. 

Suddenly she felt Fille moving around restlessly in her bag. She looked down as her head popped out from the bag, and she didn’t look happy at all. Her fur was bristled and her teeth were bared. Cecile glanced up in the direction Fille was looking, and gasped when she saw a man in the distance with a large crow perched on his shoulder. He wore a hood, but she didn’t need to see his face to know who he was. 

“That can’t be…” She murmured. She knew the man who had always written her letters was, like herself, a mage. And his Familier was a crow. Of course, all her years of burning his letters wouldn’t pay off if he ended up seeing her, so Cecile quickly bolted for the Inn only a few buildings down the road, and, to her relief, in the opposite direction of Thomas. 

“That asshole!” She said as she ran into the lobby of the Inn and up the stairs. “I’ll never get him off my back if he finds me. The freak!” 

Cecile pushed the door open to she and Bernard’s room and quickly closed it behind her, locking it. She leaned against the door and sunk down to the floor, sighing. “Oh, could this week get any worse? I suppose it will start raining hail the size of cows now.” She pouted as she dug into the bag and pulled out a sweet roll.

Bernard put his pack on his back before rising with a clap. “Even better!” He said, pulling his jacket onto his body, over the pack, before realizing the error and having to start all over. 

It took a minute or two to get this right before he motioned for the door. “We should take our leave, the Duke of these parts might want to have a word with me since I’m sure word’s already gotten to him that I’m back, without the head of a rouge famiiliere.”

With that he pushed the straps into a more comfortable rested position on his shoulders and exited the room.

Bernard vanquished the second sweet roll only slightly slower than the first and stood abruptly. “Damn right, we need to go see some people about our situation, but don’t worry.” He said, glancing over to Cecile as he went to his bag in the corner. “There’s not a man alive that can handle me.” He grinned, then winked.

***

Thomas stood on the bottom most step to the Castle, eyes peering still for the crowd that would contain his man.

“Slive’s probably not even in town.” He grumbled, playing with the jesse’s on his glove. Kraum simply crowed in mediation, serving to worsen Thomas’s mood.

He plopped down under a tree outside of the gates and rested his head against the ancient oak. “I suppose we’ll give it time then,” he whispered, stroking Kraum’s silky feathers, “If we’re lucky, maybe he’ll get eaten by a bear or something.”

Kraum cooed laughingly. 

Bernard raised an eyebrow as he nodded and took to roll, making it vanish almost instantly.

“Sewhachudinkheants?” He said, while chewing. Swallowing a wad of soft doughy heaven. “I mean,” he said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, “You don’t think he knows you’re here somehow, do you?”

Bernard’s eyes cracked open the second he smelled Angie’s sweet rolls. “Cecile?” He moaned, turning over in his bed, body fussing in protest- a response to a night in gear. 

He caught her face as she shifted through some food and he forced himself to sit up on the side of the bed. “Is something wrong?” He yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes passively.

Thomas watched the streets with intent eyes, glancing back and forth from crowd to crowd. 

People looked at him as they passed, wary glares and frightened stares among the expressions that littered the masses. Thomas was used to it though, not often does one come in rags and leather with a crow on your shoulder.

Even stranger should that crow have four eyes.

He stopped before a fruit stand, lifting an apple from it and laying a gold piece down on the counter without a word.

He held it up to the crow and softly petted it as the creature ate.

“Be well Kraum, with any luck we’ll find him by sundown and then we can go home.” He said, looking in a window as he passed. His reflection looked just like he felt.

Broken.

The man that stared back at Thomas had greasy blonde hair, a full beard, cloak and hood, and knife in sheath. Perfect.

“Great, now I can look, feel, and dress just as fashionably as hired trash.” He thought, rolling his eyes at an invisible taunter.