Timestamp: Fall the 41th day. Year 511 AV
Ihnar opened the door of the library. As always, doing something so simple as opening a door was hard for him, being so small. He had had to gather some small books to act as an stool, since the door handle had been so high. Of course he could have asked the human he had met yesterday to open the door for him. However he had decided to give the man some time to decide what to think of Ihnar.
It must have been weird for him, meeting a living statue. As natural as moving 'statues' were to Ihnar, he still understood if the human would have mixed feelings about their encounter.
Even Ihnar himself was not fully sure of how to react to the human. Whilst yesterday he had trusted him, now as always the trust was slowly starting to fade. What did he know about the man? Nothing. Not even his name.
Ihnar walked out of the library, having to leap out from between the rabidly closing door. He had no intention of getting cut in half by such a horrible wooden guillotine. Even the doors are dangerous here. For a while he wanted to kick the door, but doing so would have most likely lead to him losing a limb. Ihnar decided to let the stupid door win this round, and sat on the ground next to the door.
The pycon let out a sigh. I can even beat a door and I have to... There it was again. The reminder of what he had to do.
Ihnar had never really cared of money, or the rest of the stuff he had owned. Only his woolen scarf, which was still safely wrapped around his neck had ever mattered to him... but he had never been broke either. Always he had had enough money to live. Even with his first cruel master, since Ihnar and the rest of his family had been tools to earn money... and tools needed to be kept in shape, or they would lose their edge.
Ihnar shuddered and pushed himself away from the dark thoughts. He did not feel like dwelling there again, having spent most of the time doing that yesterday.
... and now he was broke. All his belongings -except for the scarf- were in the hands of the thugs who had kidnapped him from Syliras. The pycon tried to remember how much money he had had with him in Syliras. After staring at his fingers and counting for a while, he settled for the amount of approximately 600 gold mizas. Is that a big amount or a little one..? No-one had bothered to teach the pycon about money. All he knew was that he could buy stuff with money and most importantly food.
Ihnar couldn't leech off of his new master.Well he didn't say he was my master, but he still is, weather he knows it or not. He knew that most creatures were really interested in money. Most likely the human who had saved him was too. Did he really even want to steal money from the kind man? No. It isn't right.
He HAD to come up with a way to retrieve his stuff. Ihnar glanced grimly at the door, and could feel it mocking him. Shut up. I'll get you one day. The pycon kicked a small pebble on the ground and watched it fly a short distance.
If he would go there alone, he would just most likely blow his cover as being a statue and get taken away by the slavers again. The memory of how painful it had been, did not encourage him to even try this.
Maybe he could get his master to help in this one... but then the thugs would just hurt his master instead... and he didn't feel like bothering the kind man any more.
So he proceeded to sit there and mull his dark thoughts. (and quite possibly the vengeance on the door)