Two Crows Watch from the Gallows Tree (cont'd)

Pratik was frustrated as the conversation lulled. He had to keep moving. He knew he did. So, he supposed he would have to mull over this information, and see what he could do about making their paths cross once again. Although now he wouldn't have the "I didn't know I wasn't allowed" alibi this time. So time would tell if this ended up being a valuable connection or not.

But, for now, he knew Etha hated her brother. And it seemed their mother was also wary of the young Lord Tarr. It could make for an interesting turn of events, if he were to set something in motion. At the right time.

As soon as Aren was gone, Etha took a step toward her mother. "I'm tired of all of this," she said in undertones. "I can't trust you. I can't trust anyone but Alexander. I'm tiptoeing about trying to live my life but you're barely living yours! You're worse than a ghost." Ariella's expression didn't change except for the slightest wince, and she looked down.
"You survive your way, Etha," she mumbled. "I'll survive mine." Etha's jaw tightened, and she turned on her heel.
"Don't come looking for me," she retorted. "Not that you ever do."

Pratik decided to cut his losses. There was no way he was going chance being caught eavesdropping. So he descended to the next floor down and resumed his exploration of the Keep.

Roland, his contact, was working in the kitchens. Alexander the apothecary was in the infirmary, and Lord Tarr was out hunting. The slaves he had arrived with were working at their posts.

Ariella opened her mouth to reply, then closed it. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she nodded before turning and heading back the way she had come. Etha exhaled and picked up her pace. Her face felt hot, and a headache was coming on. This was why she tried to avoid her mother. It always led to stress, and stress was not something Etha could afford to have.

(Thank you for the summary! Haha do you think Alexander might happen to step into the hallway for any reason? I doubt Pratik would go into the infirmary but I’m down for interaction with him or Roland, whatever you’d prefer)

Pratik hesitated when he got to the next floor down, considering his options. He knew for a fact where Etha and Ariella were. And he was pretty sure Tarr was out of the Keep right now. But he wasn’t certain Tarr had any useful documents in his study, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to go digging just then, on the off chance Tarr returned suddenly. He’d have no explanation for why he was in there. And a beating — or worse — wasn’t worth the risk, since he didn’t know if it would be helpful.

… unless it was.

He kept walking, trying to decide what to do. Weighing the risk of knowing where the Tarrs were, against the fact that he didn’t know the patterns of the household yet to know if anyone else might happen to stumble across him.

It wasn’t like him to be this indecisive. But, then, he usually got in and out quickly with jobs. This one he had to be smart for the long haul, not just a quick theft and departure. He kept walking.

(I have no preference! I can get Alexander to step into the hallway, if you like. He's not the most talkative and quite blunt so I don't know how useful Pratik would find him, but that would be the easiest character to pull in.)

(I also don’t really have a preference either, so that works for me!)

Alexander stepped out of the infirmary a few minutes later with two Iron kittens clinging to his shoulder. One wore a green sweater and the other wore yellow. He plucked the one in the yellow sweater from his shoulder and cradled it in his arms, heading off in a random direction for one of his daily strolls.

Pratik quickly assessed the man as he stepped into the hallway a ways ahead of him. He seemed harmless enough.

Pratik glanced over his shoulder to be sure that they were as alone as they seemed, then kept walking towards the man with the kittens. He nodded to him. "Sir."

Alexander blinked at him slowly. "I never saw you for salve, did I," he said flatly.

"I... don't believe so, sir," Pratik answered. He stopped a polite distance in front of the man. "My name is Aren."

"Aren." Alexander nodded very slightly, approaching slowly. He peered at Aren's collar. "Are you experiencing chafing, Aren?"

"I..." Pratik subconsciously reached up to feel the tender patch just above his right collarbone. He hadn't figured out how to get the weight of the collar off the raw flesh, and it didn't feel fantastic. But he was disciplined enough that he didn't cringe, despite the pain his hand brought to his neck. "No." He hesitated, bringing his hand back down to his side. "... It's fine."

"That's a lie." His long fingers stroked the top of the kitten's head absently. "Come with me, please." He tipped his head in the direction of the infirmary.

Pratik hesitated the briefest moment. Who was this man, to care whether the collar was hurting him or not? No one else seemed to give a shit. Was he a physician or something? Or...?

Pratik dipped his head and took a step in the direction the man indicated. It didn't particularly matter who this man was. It wasn't like Pratik had the option to disobey orders these days. "Yes, sir."