(no subject)

[giveeverything]

Who: Patrick and Hawa
What: A second meeting
Where: Outside, not far from the Valhalla Inn
When: Today, earlier.
Notes: ♪ ♫ ♫ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♬ ♬ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♪
Warnings: Beware of owls (no warnings to mention yet)




Patrick was starting to settle into this place. He'd hunkered down at the inn while he looked about for something to generate income for him while he was stuck here. By parts he'd explored -- certainly not everywhere, but he was beginning to get the lay of the land. His morning jogs brought him down streets that were becoming familiar. Routine.

And that was a problem.

He had things waiting for him back home; he couldn't afford to just settle in here comfortably. But he consoled himself with the fact that he would at least learn for his trouble while he was here. With magic an out-in-the-open concept, it was an opportunity he may not get again.

So it was high time he tried to get in contact with Hawa again, and take him up on his offer. Beyond that, he'd rather enjoyed the fey's company that day and well, seeing him again sounded good in general. Not that he was admitting that. Oh no.

It was early afternoon when he found himself wandering outside, eager to get out of the room. It took him a bit to work the CiD so that he wouldn't be shouting out to the entire cohort.

A couple tries. Technology wasn't his strong suit. He was better at old things, books, pencil and paper, magic, toasters. When he got it though, he lifted it up closer to his mouth to speak. "So Hawa? Are you around? I think I owe you a drink, and I'd love to pick your brain. So--" Pausing, Patrick frowned. Was this thing echoing. No? Huh. "So I..." No, definitely an echo. He paused and looked around. Coming from nearby. And... up?

"So I was thinking maybe we could meet up." That was his voice, all right. From up in the tree.

Comments

[huntwithoutend]

Hawa's sleep schedule was admittedly not the best. When he'd left the otherworld to the human realm, it had become centred around pursuing his brother. Night or day, he'd only stop when he was truly exhausted. He had settled on some sort of rudimentary schedule, body starting to tire at expected times--

But being brought here threw it all off balance again. So he was trying to accustom himself to a nocturnal life the bird he changed into was accustomed to. He'd started sleeping most of early morning and day away. From the evenings onward he could be more alert and he found more comfort in the dark of night. Of course, there were times he couldn't sleep when he wanted to, and times when he wasn't sleeping when he wanted to.

Today was one of the rare occasions he was actually getting some sleep. He'd found a tree that had a comfortably-sized hollow for him to settle into. Of course, he found himself jerking away with a hard blink of round yellow eyes as he felt a voice coming through the CiD tucked to the side. He observed it irritably, until familiarity registered. Wasn't that Patrick? Hmm. He supposed he could wake himself up for this... He kind of liked the kid, after all.

Fluffing feathers up, he took the little pouch of sorts he had put together from a few scraps, the CiD resting within, and hopped to the edge of the hollow. Of course, it was about then he noticed Patrick. Standing not very far at all and the owl froze, pouch in beak, the last of Patrick's words (slightly muffled) echoing from the device in question.