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"Don't!"

Cierra didn't know why she had told the rabbit-furre not to shine light into the cell, but she had heard the prisoner murmur to himself. Although she could not hear the words, the tone was uncomfortable. She pulled the furre back.

"It isn't fair," she said softly. She stepped back up to the barred window, ignoring the noose that lay beside the bins, having not spotted the dagger. "The axe? You cannot escape the axe? What crime is so punishable by death?"

Although not consciously, Cierra was shivering. She felt sorrow for the prisoner, and although she could not feel the man's own sorrow - if there was any - she felt a sadness welling inside of her.

Patiently, she waited for an answer to her question. However, she did not feel it was right to delve too deep into the man's life, if it pained him.

The thing had tensened greatly at the threat of light... obviously, it is not an appreciated presence. Yet the yellow gleam returns to the barred window once more. "What, indeed?" he asks of Cierra, in a strange and thoughtful voice, "If only I knew." And his tone is mournful, soft and very odd...

It returns to the cold snapping. "No doubt your meaning is plainer. I suppose, in layman's terms, murder would count as plenty reason for its equal. I cannot say I will enjoy it, but perhaps it is preferrable..." He speaks with a disturbing casual tone, as if he is merely to go on a business trip, save these last few, whispered words. The man inside the cell murmurs something piteous and altogether unheard once more, and the yellow glow blinks several times.

The shouts echo up the dampened stone, to an open window on the crimson and purple sky, giving a horrific sound in addition to the creak of a chair and the quiet ffft, frfft, of the needle embroidery...

((Sure ))

Rae stood up, something strange had entered the night. The sounds were....different. She went to the window, looking down on the supposedly still night below. She squinted, and strained her eyes, wondering what was going on.

((Thanks Eo Now I'm simply oblivious not for long I hope...))

Cierra suddenly grew excited. Now she might see the person within, without encroaching on his privacy or anything. She looked at Meiou. "Wait," she said, not wanting to seem too eager. She once more looked at the eyes. "Sir, how long have you been here?"

It is a strange sight from above; the rabbit-furre standing before the dead end of a wall, and there crouched before the little barred window is a smaller girl... to look directly down would catch the gleam of the shining dagger and the blood upon the rope, and the gleaming eyes can not be avoided, shining into the night like beacons...

The voice from within the cell is strained. "Entirely too long... I can never recall. Have you never been imprisoned?" It is once more cold and biting as the chill in the air. "You would know that every minute is a minute too long." The eyes fixed at once upon Meiou. "But I lack the presence of my friends, and would not trust the world enough to venture out of my personal abyss in their absence."

Rae looked harder, she looked directly down. Something was not right, not right at all. She bent over double, over the sill of the window, and realized she was slipping, she tried to regain the careful balance but it was no hope. She had a fleeting thought about how weird it would be see to see the wealthiest noble girl in the land, slipping out the window. Fortunately, her dress snagged, and though sorry for the dress, it saved possibly her life as she scrambled into the room once more.

Name: Clair
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Species: Human
Occupation: Drudge
Posessions: A dark grey cat (which doesn't tecnically belong to her, as it comes and goes as it pleases)
Appearance: Matted, dark brown hair which is often pulled into a messy bun, and stormy grey eyes. She is rather slender, and petite(which she isn't to fond of being, though it is easier to get into small places.
History/Other: Well... She's at least part French. That's all I can really think of right now, so be prepared to see this edited.

Clair peered out through a veil of dark hair. She was completely and utterly lost, the money her mistress had given her to buy food had been stolen, she was in the worst part of town, and she was alone. Sighing, she stood up, brushing her ragged dress off, and walked off. Trying to make herself feel a little better, she hummed a little tune as she wandered aimlessly on the cobblestone road. A breeze suddenly picked up and blew her hair out of the messy knot, and also brought along with it a rather unpleasant smell. Clair followed it, as she'd always been a curious girl, and came upon a gaol. The other drudges had always told her to stay away from it, but then again, most of them were silly gossips. She approached two of the figures in the alleyway next to the gaol with a sudden burst of confidence, one of whom was a rabbit furre, and the other a girl hunched down, her nose between a barred window, who appeared to be talking to someone. "Excuse me if I'm interrupting you, monsieur, mademoiselle; but may I ask of you who you are talking to?"

((The bio is definately going to be edited, 'cuz I'm not to fond of it. And sorry it took so long to post this, I was just going through a rather uncreative phase temporarily. But that's pretty much over))

The thing-- whatever it was, in shadow and imprisoned-- went at once silent... he could swear he had heard something from above, seen a flash of movement. Again, that is. And there, another approached! Can they not leave me in peace? This one may know something... The one with the glowing eyes was becoming decidedly agorophobic. In sharp and high clipped tones hinting at nervousness, he replied, "Me!"

Clair knelt down next to the other girl, by the barred window. "Hello, monsieur..." she paused. "I'd be delighted if you'd supply my with your name." Blushing profusely as she realised that there had been a note of nervousness in his voice, she uttered, "Of course monsieur, if you would like me to leave, I shall..."

The inhabitant of the gaol -- whoever and whatever it was -- seemed rather taken aback. Whether at the second presence of ceaselessly staring eyes or merely at being adressed as something, well, human... the yellow stars draw back, widening. Yet the response was as cold and dark as it had been. Only the language was different.

"Mon nom, madamoiselle," the oddly handsome voice hissed, "est ma propre affaire."

The skies overhead were darkening as Menai walked quickly down the cobblestone path. Her head was slightly bent, but her eyes gazed upwards, glittering beneath the shadow of her hood. Somebody brushed past her, and her grip on her cloak hardened, wrapping it tighter around her body.

She glanced into a dark alleyway leading to the side of the prison as she walked by, and could see three figures who seemed to be conversing with somebody inside the jail. She had wanted to continue walking - it wasn't as if it was any of her business - but somehow, the sound of her brisk footsteps stopped.

She stood there quietly, wondering why she had halted.

Cierra pulled back from the girl who had just walked in on the conversation, finding her both rude and daunting. She folded her arms, anrgy at being so rudely interuppted, ignoring her question, and ignoring the dialogue between the girl and the prisoner.

'"Who are you talking to?"' Cierra thought, mocking the girl softly inside her own head. 'That's our business, not yours.'

Cierra, however, was drawn in by the prisoner saying something that she did not understand - a different language. How many other different languages did this man know?

Being a simple girl with little to nil education, Cierra couldn't test her question, but she could ask it. Turning back to the prisoner, she said, "How many other languages do you know?"

Then, remembering his reaction to Meiou's statement of getting the prisoner out of his cell, she added, "And you do not want to come out of there, if your friends are not here? Friendship is what you want, friendship is all I have to give. I'm sure we could help each other."

Cierra didn't quite know why she was talking to a prisoner, a prisoner, for that matter, who was on death row. She didn't know why she had just offered him her friendship, her loyalty, and his freedom, if Meiou truly could grant him that. She did, however, know one thing - she had said it, she was here now, and there was no way in this world that she was going to take it back.