The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page.
He watches her approach and simply cannot handle the worry and dismay any longer. There is a stream of curses as he feels the first wash of relief that she is okay and she talks about protecting and hiding him. He snorts as he begins pacing and lets another long stream of colorful language, more of which she would know and less curses and more muttering to himself. In his language, returning to his comfortable tongue, he speaks. “Child, you are not keeping me safe spurning the weak and inciting potential unrest.”
He says that at least clear enough for a newly learned student to understand. “I call because I have heard and seen disturbing things and I am here to hear an explanation, to learn before I can decide what future there is here.” He is angry, upset that anything should matter to him so much as to disrupt his peaceful existence. More angry that she would weaken herself, whatever the excuse. “What purpose do you have in asking me foolish things when you have yet to explain what brought me to this place, feeling this rage and terror?!”
He is pacing again, tail snapping this way and that, a testament that not all tails that wag are happy. He aches, stopping in front of her. “What makes you think that you have hidden at all, She-Who-Has-No-Name.”
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