[Isaac regards him in the half-dark a touch too long for a casual glance, as though waiting for something, the whites of his eyes gleaming dully. He blinks, finally, and slowly turns back.]
We shall see. [He answers, emotionless, skimming his hand over the bottle with a quiet reverence as though its smooth shape is an extension of Hector's body. When the light goes out and the bedroom blackens, he has already made his choice as to whether to stay and obnoxiously monopolize the bed or leave; he eases off the mattress and takes the wine with him, a little unsteady on his feet but as determined to see his way out on his own as he came in, a wisp of firelight leading him to echo chamber his tower has become. It's quieter tonight, for once. And for just long enough for him to sink into his own furred bed, where a mercifully dreamless sleep is waiting.]
[Hector sighs as Isaac's silhouette disappears down the hallway, but it was a long shot anyways. There's only so far can be come in a day. Hector's work may never be over.
He sleeps, curling up away from the wet spot left by his peak, and wakes with the dawn. Hector washes, dresses, and pads quietly down the hallway to the kitchens to make breakfast. He's no chef, but he can manage enough to keep himself fed. Slices of bread and cured meat, a porridge sweetened with a few foraged berries from the forest, a couple of hard-boiled eggs. Hector eats, and as he has done since he came to the castle, he leaves a portion for Isaac, which the other forgemaster may or may not eat. If not for the locks on his tower door, Hector would be tempted to send it up to him via devil.
With that task done, he takes his forging work outside with him once more, though this time he doesn't put himself directly under Isaac's window. He'd never been able to forge in sunlight back in Dracula's day, and he finds he likes it. That his latest projects have been plant-based gives him even more reason to venture outside of the castle walls to find a place to forge.]
no subject
We shall see. [He answers, emotionless, skimming his hand over the bottle with a quiet reverence as though its smooth shape is an extension of Hector's body. When the light goes out and the bedroom blackens, he has already made his choice as to whether to stay and obnoxiously monopolize the bed or leave; he eases off the mattress and takes the wine with him, a little unsteady on his feet but as determined to see his way out on his own as he came in, a wisp of firelight leading him to echo chamber his tower has become. It's quieter tonight, for once. And for just long enough for him to sink into his own furred bed, where a mercifully dreamless sleep is waiting.]
no subject
He sleeps, curling up away from the wet spot left by his peak, and wakes with the dawn. Hector washes, dresses, and pads quietly down the hallway to the kitchens to make breakfast. He's no chef, but he can manage enough to keep himself fed. Slices of bread and cured meat, a porridge sweetened with a few foraged berries from the forest, a couple of hard-boiled eggs. Hector eats, and as he has done since he came to the castle, he leaves a portion for Isaac, which the other forgemaster may or may not eat. If not for the locks on his tower door, Hector would be tempted to send it up to him via devil.
With that task done, he takes his forging work outside with him once more, though this time he doesn't put himself directly under Isaac's window. He'd never been able to forge in sunlight back in Dracula's day, and he finds he likes it. That his latest projects have been plant-based gives him even more reason to venture outside of the castle walls to find a place to forge.]