Kelski's leap from her chair took Sal by surprise, on the inside at least. He found his heart rate take a leap of its own, as a dose of adrenaline pumped through his veins. He remembered one of his brothers then, who used to lay in wait around the house when they were kids, seeking for opportune moments to scare the pants off him. On one occasion the mischievous brother had pounced on an unsuspecting parent, resulting in a broken vase, a thorough telling off, and an end to that particular little prank. While Sal had always hated his brother briefly whenever on the receiving end, he missed it now.
Collecting himself as Kelski glided around the desk, he wondered if this might just have been the least orthodox encounter he had had at the Cosmos Center. In terms of providing his services in the capacity of his current role, he had thus far failed. But the distraction had been a pleasant one, and rather than attempt to bring the woman back to the heart of the matter, he allowed her tour of the walls and desk to go unhindered.
The hall itself was grand in design, boasting a generous helping of skyglass that provided the blue glow that Lhavitians were of course accustomed to. For newcomers, it heralded in a real sense of wonder as it sparkled majestically during the days and emanated a magical glow by night. Beneath the tall rise ceiling, white wash walls stood tall and proud, dotted with rows of windows that framed the inertia of life outside, while higher up stained glass windows filtered the sun in such ways that a medley of colors danced magically on the opposite walls. Where windows did not feature, paintings and murals took their place, each graceful and refined in their own right. As for the desk at which Sal sat, it was made of a sturdy oak looking timber, wrought with knots and smooth cracks, and speckled with years of scratches and nicks. It wore a blanket of paperwork like a table cloth, almost covering the entirety of its top, save for a few blotches of wood that peeked out between the pages. There was an old rectangle box made of bronze, or perhaps some other metal that had begun to rust. It's innards were a secret, but if the feathered quill laying prone upon it like a sleeping, tailed creature were anything to go by, the assumption it contained writing equipment would not have been incorrect.
One thing of particular interest, at least for Kelski and her love of stones, was an oval blob of hardened amber, about the size of a child's fist. It's yellow-orange outer shell was smooth and cold to the touch, but inside looked like a moment in time captured, as though it should have been a liquid that fizzed and flowed, but instead had become a picture. Where the amber rock had come from was a mystery to Sal. Elegant as it was, now it served no more than as a paperweight. He glared at it for a moment, as if inside might move at any minute.
As Kelski's attention on the desk and its items waned, she headed off for pastures new around and behind Sal. In a small office or room, it might have been a peculiar sight that a customer, for want of a better word, was freely pacing around. But here in the grand hall of the Cosmos Center, there was enough people and traffic moving around that one more person on foot made little difference. The many desks sat neatly one behind the other in two long rows, with enough room around them for workers to push stacks of papers on wooden carts or for twos, threes or more to stand about chatting and conversing. The Cosmos Center was as much an official venue for information collecting as it was unofficial. It also served as a community center of sorts, with people passing through, meeting friends or just passing the time of day.
As the kelvic moved behind him, Sal felt suddenly vulnerable. Not so much that he would have had to twist his neck to see what she was doing back there, but rather more because of what she had said. From his vantage point, he peered out at the windows across the hall as though he might somehow pick out the very people she had referred to. A futile task, since she had neither described them nor informed him of the time of this event. Just like Sal though, that already he was ticking off such questions. The investigator in him seldom slept, so it seemed. Regardless, his attention rose to newer heights, as tended to happen with humans whenever learning that someone else had been talking about them.
He sifted through memories, as though they themselves were files on a desk in his own mind. But despite his apparent namesake, he could not recall anyone naming him Bloodhound before today. Perhaps the people who sent Kelski had been referring to investigators in general? Or maybe it was simply someone he had helped in the past. Ultimately, he decided it did not matter. Part of him even liked the name, so long as he viewed it from a positive perspective. But for now he dismissed the whole thing, instead feeling slightly abashed as Kelski laid bare her concerns regarding her being there.
It had not been his intention to elicit this feeling in her, or anyone for that matter. He frowned unknowingly, well aware that he did at times come across somewhat unfriendly. No, not unfriendly. Rather, unapproachable, in the way that he exuded the image of a man terribly busy and not to be disturbed. That was how he saw it at least, realizing in that moment that other people saw things in their own way. In other words, he had little chance to guess how Kelski saw him now.
Before he could issue an apology, the woman ventured further. Truly she spoke in tones unfamiliar with him, in a way that seemed able to take him by surprise at every turn. 'Trapped in a cage' she had theorized, hitting the nail on the head. He felt betrayed by his own emotions, surmising that he must have made some gesture or remark to give away his ill-content at being there. But at the same time, there was a strange sense of relief, strange because it did not belong. Not usually until the door of his home closed behind him did he feel such a thing. But here he was, trying to figure out who this woman was that in mere moments had him all figured out, or so he thought.
As silence nestled comfortably between them, Sal sprung into action himself. Pushing up abruptly from his chair causing it to scrape, he turned to Kelski with a renewed look of purpose on his face. "I can help you," he exclaimed as if discovering this revelation for the first time. No sooner had he spoke, he delved into the papers on the desk searching clumsily for something. With only a few parchments scattered in the process, he emerged victoriously clutching a scroll in a defiant fist. "One of the services we offer here is a tour of the city. For newcomers, like yourself. Er, to get acquainted with some important places that you'll no doubt want to know the location of in the future. Why don't we...open the cage door?" he proposed, opening an arm towards the exit in hope that she would take up the offer.
"After you ma'am," he offered politely, in such a way that Kelski might well have taken it as the show of good manners it was intended as, rather than the facade of customer service.
