Nadeem Tarak & Abhay

Things had been realtively quite around his home, leaving him with plenty of time to sort through his research and prepare his journals when he wasn't spending time out in the field studying. He had spent a good deal of time worrying over Aralyn's whereabouts, and felt horribly guilty about not visiting her at the hospital before she checked out - at least, he hoped that she had checked out, and hadn't been taken again. And that was another source of guilt he had to deal with; not being there to protect her when she obviously needed it.

"Are you serious?!? Nadeem, man, I really hope you aren't planning on checking out those wolves again. I like the deer much better." The small, ebony stallion was saying as his master fitted him with riding equipment.

Nadeem laughed at the way Abhay was bobbing his head and shuffling around, "Would you hold still for just a second? I know you're eager to go, but you must stop your fidgeting!" The young man patted the steed's neck and finished hooking up the bridle. "Now don't you go far, I'll be just a moment." The dark-skinned man headed back to his house to finish gathering his papers and notebooks.

Abhay stood outside, pawing briefly at the ground before trotting towards his master's truck and staring at his vauge reflection in the panelling of the navy vehicle, "Oh Abhay, you're just too good looking!" He bragged to himself, flicking his curved ears and dipping his head to the side, "Simply flawless."

Conan

It hadn't taken Conan long to find the little slip of paper Aralyn had left him. He'd torn his bags apart in an effort to find it, and once he had, a fearful new purpose formed in his mind. He'd let Aralyn go with Nadeem, trusting her judgment enough to trust the man with her safety... and Nadeem had betrayed that trust.

The sight of his sister's battered and bleeding face was ever at the forefront of his mind, haunting his thoughts, and taunting him with his own self-inflicted guilt for not taking proper care of her. That combined with the wild fear and grief he'd experienced when he'd thought Aralyn was dead drove him beyond common sense, and toward the home of the one he believed responsible for it.

Conan didn't even see Abhay as he made his way up to Nadeem's door, leaning his rifle against the jamb and beginning to pound fiercely upon its surface.

Nadeem Tarak & Abhay

"Oh, hey! Nadeem! We have a visitor!" Abhay neighed half-heartedly, not exactly picking up on the more than furious aura that envoloped the red-haired human. "Ohh, he's got a gun though. Maybe he can come with us, you know, for the wolves..." Requardless to the fact that Nadeem couldn't even hear him, and much less understand him, Abhay never ceased to talk to his master like he would another horse.

In the middle of orgnanizing a canteen of water and a sandwich into his pack, a furious knocking at the door caught his attention. Setting his stuff aside, Nadeem moved hastily to open it, without first bother to ask who was there.

"Conan!" The last time he had seen the other was when the red-head was in rather sorry shape. "Is... everything alright...?" Abhay may be horribly ignorant, but it didn't take much imagination on Nadeem's part to see that Conan was not quite a happy camper. He hadn't yet seen the gun, and being a rather niave fellow at times, he didn't suspect any danger from the other.

Conan

"Not quite a happy camper" didn't even begin to describe what was rolling through the boy at this moment. He'd grown taller since Nadeem had last seen him, if that was possible, now standing at just an inch under six feet. But where he had been long and lanky before, the teen was finally gaining some muscle to go with the height. A pair of broad shoulders were coming in, and the waist was thickening some, giving him more of a look of power than he'd had the last time he and Nadeem had crossed paths.

But it didn't seem to matter now that they'd shared a semi-cordial relationship. In fact, his face turned almost lethal, and a quick hand, now backed up by a young man's muscle, snaked up from one side in hopes of aiming a shattering blow across Nadeem's jawline. Regardless of whether it actually hit or not, it would still be plenty enough to give the other the message that he was very unhappy with him, and thus Conan kept his fist raised, but did not move to follow-up his primary attack.

Nadeem Tarak & Abhay

Nadeem was just processing all of these changes in the teen since he last saw him, noting that Conan looked to be a heck of a lot stronger than himself. But it wasn't until that fist clenched and came flying his way that he realized his previous observations had been a little... lacking, to say the least. Not being anything close to a fighter, the young man didn't even think to duck away before the blow connected just where it was intended.

Reeling back, Nadeem reached out to brace a hand against an end table, but missed sorely and fell with an ungracious thud to the ground. "What the- Conan!" He exclaimed in a breathy voice, holding a hand to the side of his jaw. He was undeniably smart, but not exactly quick when it came to physical situations like these. Slightly dazed, he failed to make the obvious connection as to the source of Conan's fury.

Conan

Some small part of himself realized and acknowledged that watching Nadeem fall was entertaining, in a sick sort of way, and that the dull pain in his hand caused by the force with which he'd clobbered the other man was quite satisfying, again in its own way. But the greater part of him knew, just as Ben had when the situation had been reversed, that taking his anger out of Nadeem physically was not going to solve the problem, and put him on the same level as his own father.

The fist that was still raised threateningly in the air trembled ever-so-slightly in fury and indecision, and he was frozen in time for a two-second span that seemed to stretch into eternity. But finally, the teen managed to master himself, and lowered the clenched hand, having to put more effort than was pretty into letting go of the angry fist and letting his hand lay smoothly again.

And it was yet another minute before his fingers were steady enough for him to begin to form words. Why did you let her go?! Knowing that he wanted her?! Of course, he was almost certain that Nadeem wouldn't understand. Not many people in the valley used sign language at all, but he hadn't a pad or pencil with him, as he'd taken to Ben's. At the moment, this was the only communication he had.

Nadeem Tarak & Abhay

While one hand occupied a throbbing jaw, the other was held up in the air in the universal 'I surrender, don't hurt me!' sort of pose, "Woah, woah, hey now!" He sputtered out while the fist hovered threateningly in the air. Nadeem had thought about turning tail and running further into his house, but was fairly certain that Conan would catch him before he got far. Instead he remained where he was, slowly standing back up as he watched the teen's fist go lax, and then begin to sign out words.

Of the two langauges that he knew, Sign Langauge was not one of them, and none of the symbols registered to him. "I, I'm sorry - I don't understand..." But as the shock of the sudden violence ebbed out of his mind, he fell back to the common link that they shared - and the only reason he could think that would drive Conan to attack him. All at once, his wide-set eyes took on a guilty sort of light as they flickered to the ground, "Aralyn...? Is that why... is that why you're here?" Drawing his dark eyes up again, he fixed them on Conan's fists once more, a bit more prepared this time incase another should come flying his way.

Conan

Conan was having a great deal of trouble mastering his emotions at this point. All the effort he'd put into copying Ben's method of cold anger now flew to the winds as he rested burning eyes on the cowering form before him that was Aralyn's friend Nadeem. But, after a moment, when the man began to stand, he allowed it, not making any move to prevent him from doing so.

His hands clenched spasmodically once more when the man spoke Aralyn's name, but this time at least, the teen managed to control himself and, over the length of a released breath, managed to force them open again. His face was still far from friendly, but he fixed in stone a cold glare as he nodded to answer Nadeem's question, an economical, precise movement that both provided an answer and made it clear that the boy was using every ounce of self-control he possessed to keep from striking out again.

Nadeem Tarak & Abhay

Once that point had been established, Nadeem's mind began to work frantically to understand just why Conan was here about it. The first logical conclusion he came to was that Conan must think he had Aralyn here, or had done something horrible to her. After all, he hadn't gotten really any time to interact with the teen who Aralyn thought of as a brother, and he knew from her that the two were very close.

"Listen, I didn't do anything to harm her, if that's what you're thinking." Nadeem stated levelling, forcing his voice to be as calm as it could be, though it was still shaken a bit by uncertainty. The glare he was recieving from Conan was more than enough to let him know the other meant business. "She isn't here."

Conan

One of the hands made a quick motion of negation, slicing viciously to one side to cut off Nadeem's explanations. The glare changed a bit, to one that clearly said, I know that, before melting and reforming once more to the cold mask he'd adopted from Ben, and only now was able to reclaim and paste on his face.

But he could already see that they were getting nowhere with him signing and Nadeem guessing, and so he immediately moved to ask for the tools he needed, poising an invisible pen above an imaginary paper and scribbling briefly on the air, eyes of blue ice still focused so intently on the other man.

Nadeem Tarak & Abhay

Like some obedient kid, Nadeem shut up the instant the hand was sliced through the air. Sign Language might be out of his grasp, but the implications of Conan's stoney glare and the aggatated hand gesture held obvious meaning. In fact, he remained perfectly silent and still until he caught onto what the other was asking for.

"Right, you need pencil and paper." He accented words came out fleetingly. Daring to turn his back on Conan, the man pawed through a nearby desk until he produced a pen and a notebook with a bit of cryptic, Hindu scribbling here and there on the pages. Worldlessly, he returned to the door and handed the possession over, while holding his breath tensely as he put himself back into punching range.

Conan

In startling contrast to his earlier actions, Conan took the notebook and pen from Nadeem's hands without any undue force, and without aiming another punch. And, also quite oddly, he considerately turned past the pages marked with the spiky foreign writing until he found one that was unmarked upon, there to start the words that would express the burning inside him.

As before, Conan wrote in large, blocky capital letters with no apparently discernible style or marking of his own. They might have been type-written, for all the individuality they possessed. He wrote in a slow, deliberate fashion that almost suggested a slowness of mind, but if Nadeem had half a brain, and had listened to Aralyn, he'd know that this wasn't the case. No, the boy wrote slowly so that he could thoroughly think out what was going down on the paper. When he'd finished, he handed it back to Nadeem. It ran thus:

WHY DID YOU LET HER LEAVE? YOU BROUGHT HER HERE TO DODGE HIM, AND THEN YOU LET HER LEAVE. YOU KNEW HE WANTED HER DEAD. YOU SAW MA DIE, AND HEARD THE THREAT HE MADE. WHY DID YOU LET HER GO?!

Nadeem Tarak & Abhay

What information he knew of Conan had indeed come from Aralyn and the time they shared together. He was at a loss to account for the teen's muteness, but given the torture he had seen him put through at their last incident, he was betting money on the parents. As for the other knowledge he had of Conan, it was all praise and commendable recounts of what the two had gone through. The teen was as clever as he was brave, and fiercely loyal. But it wasn't until he took the note back that he understood where the aggression had come from.

Nadeem's mouth opened to form words, but he floundered for a good few seconds before dropping his eyes a second time and shaking his head dismally, "...I'm sorry." Braving Conan's icy glare, Nadeem met it with emotion-laden eyes, "I'm so sorry, I know how much she means to you... she spoke of you as a brother... I should never have let her go off on her own. I do not go one day without thinking about it and deeply regretting my actions. I cared about her, a lot. More than... than I've ever cared about someone." He wished that he had something to say that would magically correct the situation, or at least be able to say that Aralyn was ok, and that he knew where she was. But he could only look on shamefully, knowing full well that he deserved the ugly look he was getting, and the smarting punch he'd taken. If he had watched Aralyn more closely, non of this would have happened. She would be safe, Charlene would be alive, and Conan would have his sister.

Conan

Any other reaction would have been expected. For his relatively short lifetime, Conan had seen every sort of aggression, every sort of pain, every sort of fear out of every type of person. Any of these things, Conan could have endured with nary a flinch or a drop of the coldness in the eyes.

But Nadeem's utter and genuine regret disarmed the teen completely, easily wiping away any indignant, angry reply he could have formed, and placing him in a momentary, wordless stupor. Finally, a half-limp hand took the notebook back from Nadeem and formed another block of words on the clean white paper. But the edges of the letters softened now, as if determined to reflect his state of temper as his thoughts grew more gentle.

DON'T TALK OF HER IN THE PAST TENSE. SHE'S NOT DEAD, NO THANKS TO HIM. AN ALLY AND I MANAGED TO GET HER BACK. WE TOOK HER TO THE HOSPITAL, AND THEY SAY SHE'S GOING TO BE OKAY.

He paused, and then added a bit at the bottom.

I DON'T THINK THEY KNOW WHAT THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT. THEY HAVEN'T SEEN HER ON THE GOOD DAYS. SHE HASN'T BEEN SO LOST SINCE I CAME TO HER.

And, even smaller,

She cares about you, too. I know it.

The last bit he wrote almost grudgingly, never having had to share Aralyn's affection before, and now being forced to split it between himself, Ben, and Nadeem, but his conscience told him that he owed it to the other man, for striking him so undeservedly. After all, Nadeem hadn't hurt Aralyn. Michael had. If anyone was to blame for that, Conan could only lay it on himself.

Nadeem Tarak & Abhay

With a tendancy to be a rather emotional sort of guy, Nadeem had to blink his eyes several times to to quell the moisture that threatened to build up. He managed it well enough, standing idly still as he waited and watched Conan.

With an eye for detail, he noted the subtle change in words as he began to read over the next note. A faint, grim smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when he caught the last remark, though he shook his head, "If I were as brave as you, Conan, I'd track that man down right now and let him have a peice of my mine." At this, he offered a short, bitter laugh directed at himself, wishing that he did have the guts for such things. If he had seen the way Aralyn had been roughed around by Michael, he would have stepped up to such bravery, and even gone so far as to shoot the man if he could. But he had been out in the field somewhere, studying the local wildlife while she was being held hostage and ravaged.

"Conan, I wish to make it up to you." Nadeem looked up suddenly, wanting to set to ease at least some of the guilt he carried, "If there is anything at all I can help with, I will do it."

Conan

A grim smile of his own twisted his face for just a moment at Nadeem's response to his words. A piece of his mind? Conan reclaimed the paper from Nadeem's hand once more, putting more thought to the page, forcing back the trembling in his hands as the memory of Aralyn so badly beaten clawed its way back to the forefront. His letters weren't quite as clear this time as he handed the book back to Nadeem, something heavy in the blue eyes that met his.

HE'LL HAVE A PIECE OF MY GUN BEFORE I'M THROUGH WITH HIM. BAD ENOUGH HE TAKES HIS DRUNKENNESS OUT ON ME, BUT HE THOUGHT TO USE ARALYN TO HURT ME. I WILL NOT TOLERATE IT.

And Nadeem's offer invoked thought, for indeed there was one other person about whom he was just as worried as Aralyn. Moreso, perhaps, because he was still missing...

SOMEBODY'S GOT RAIMI. MY LITTLE BROTHER. I'VE GOT TO FIND HIM. NEXT TO ARALYN, HE'S ALL THE FAMILY I'VE GOT.

Nadeem Tarak & Abhay

He swallowed hard, trying to still his fear and compose himself in a calmer manner. For as many years as he spent watching the animals in the Valley and the gangs in the streets, he had did his best to remain clear of the violence and do what he could to uncover just what made things tick around here. But now he couldn't evade it any longer, not when he had vowed to help Conan and make up for his neglect in keeping Aralyn safe. He owed that much to her.

"The little boy? Of course, I will help you find him. Do you have any idea who might have him?" He knew of many people in town, but unfortunately was not the type like Ben, Mikhail, or even Matt - he didn't do research on people or keep tabs on their whereabouts. He just knew the vague facts.

Conan

You could see the wheels turning in his head, slowly calculating the possibilities. He'd been about to take the paper and express his lack of knowledge, but suddenly a half-repressed memory pressed itself into his mind.

His demeanor, which had calmed significantly since after he'd slung the punch at Nadeem, did a world speed-record 180, turning vicious in a half-instant as the teen made a logical jump with a speed and efficiency that would have made Ben proud. Perhaps that manipulative man had been more of an influence on Conan in the short time they'd allied than he thought. His face curled up into a nasty, teeth-flashing scowl, and the words he wrote on the paper leaned heavily to one side under the force of his hatred.

THE CRYPTICSILVER GANG. MY OLDER BROTHERS USED TO HEAD UP THE VALLEY'S FIRST GANG, A THING CALLED BRUSHFIRE, UNTIL THE CRYPTICSILVERS ROLLED IN AND TOOK OVER THE TERRITORY. BUT NOT BEFORE BRUSHFIRE HAD MANAGED TO KILL SEVERAL OF ITS MEMBERS. I'LL BET YOU THAT THEY MEAN TO USE RAIMI TO DRAW ME INTO A TRAP, TO GET RID OF ME, AND THEN MAYBE RAISE RAIMI TO BE A MEMBER OF THE GANG. THEY WANT ME DEAD, SO THEY'LL USE RAIMI TO LURE ME OUT!

His scowl darkened still further, thinking... his family, the small one that he had, were being used so many times as tools to hurt him. If ever he got them back... he'd see that it never happened again.

Nadeem Tarak & Abhay

Of all the influences in town, CrypticSilver was the last he wanted to get tangled with. But, he wasn't the kind to back out of his word, so he offered a single nod in compliance when he had finished ready the inensely-written words. "You think the CS has your little brother?" He deep sigh was given as he put his mind to work, dark brows hunched together, "The last thing we want to do is to outright confront them, then. That would play right into their plans." For one, Nadeem had never shot a gun in his life, and seriously doubted he'd be of any help to Conan if they went to confront the gang face to face.

The young man thought a bit more before offering up his first thought, going slowly as he worked it out, "As far as I know, I am a neutral figure in their eyes. I could observe their activities without raising any suspicion, and ascertain where and when we might be able to get Raimi back." He didn't have skills in fighting or abundant knowledge about tracking people over the internet, but he was as perceptive and detail-oriented as they came. "And perhaps, if it comes down to it, I could provide a distraction or serve as a decoy."

Conan

It occurred to him, at some point during the awkward discussion they were having, that he was letting his anger and his worry for both Aralyn and Raimi cloud his judgment. So he closed his eyes as he listened to Nadeem make relatively calm suggestions, and concentrated very intently on the sound of his voice.

Slowly, the anger left him, and he calmed himself enough that, when the eyes opened again, he nod evenly and levelly, taking up the paper again.

A GOOD IDEA, TO A POINT. BUT WHAT IF THEY NOTICE YOU WATCHING THEM? YOU REALIZE...

And he paused, wondering whether he should actually write it, but deciding that, for Aralyn's sake, he'd better give it to Nadeem straight. So he wrote it.

YOU REALIZE THAT THEY WANT ME, AND THAT IF THEY SUSPECT YOU'RE A TOOL OF MINE, YOU WON'T LIVE TO SEE ANOTHER SUNRISE, NOR I, WHEN THEY CATCH UP TO ME. CAN YOU DEAL WITH THAT?

Nadeem Tarak & Abhay

That notion had certainly come to mind, though he tried to push it away to keep his fears abated to some degree. However, he was forced into facing the potential risk when Conan pointed it out it out to him, "I... understand the implications." Nadeem voiced quietly, suddenly wondering if he could really do what he had offered. But just as soon as he questioned his abilities, he mentally snarled at himself for even thinking of backing out of the offered help, "I don't plan on getting caught."

Having wondered away from the truck, Abhay had trotted across the yard and now stood in just behind Conan, "Are you two done jabbering with each other? I want to go talk to the deer." The stallion eyed the weapon curiously before adding, "And maybe you should get one of those, Nadeem."

"Komal, Abhay!" The man said with a bit of frustration when the horse lowered his head to sniff at Conan's clothes. "I appologize, he does not have any manners."

Conan

Conan was eyeing Nadeem carefully, watching him react to the message he'd put down on the paper. The best wrought plans often go awry... he thought to himself, but decided against writing that down.

Fortunately, Abhay was a welcome distraction from this grim line of thinking, and he slowly raised a hand to be snuffled at, a smile on his face that was half-sad, for his mare Ammit was also missing, and he missed her dreadfully. His handwriting was steadier, though, when he handed another reply to Nadeem.

HE IS POLITE, BY HORSE STANDARDS. THIS IS JUST A GREETING. I HAVE KNOWN HORSES THAT CHEW ON THE CLOTHES OF PEOPLE THEY MEET IN ORDER TO GET ACQUAINTED. BESIDES, HE'S FRIENDLY ENOUGH. AMMIT'LL RUN FROM ANYONE BUT ME. AND HE'S GOOD STOCK, TOO. WELL BUILT, SOUND TO THE HOCKS. THICK THROUGH THE CHEST AND STRONG TO THE HEART. AND YET WITH ENOUGH SPIRIT TO BE A GOOD FRIEND. HE'LL SERVE YOU WELL.

Nadeem Tarak & Abhay

The Marwari nickered lightly, before giving Conan a nudge on the shoulder that he was often wont to do to people he liked and wanted attention from, "Nadeem, this fellow seems nice." He had blissfully ignored the earlier command, and would have been simply tickled if he knew what Conan had written about him. "Like I said, you should have him join us, and bring the fire-cracker with him."

He too was glad not only for the distraction, but for Conan's tolerance of the stallion, "Abahay, nahi hai!" Again the stallion completely ignored the words and went right on with his greeting and investigation of Conan, "I appriciate the compliments, though he is not entirely deserving of them half the time." Nadeem replied, in mock anger over the horse's behavior. If ever there was a vain, self-centered, horse, it was Abhay. "If you don't mind me asking..." The young man hesitated before going through with the question, "...what happened to your voice?"

Conan

The nudge reflexively transformed the offered hand into a mass of nimble, stroking fingers, scrubbing gently at the stallion's velvety nose. But he didn't turn around to look at Abhay. For this second, he wanted to pretend to himself that Ammit was behind him, in her usual place with her head stuck over his shoulder, half a furry guard and half mother to him. This has been the case most of his life: before he'd met Ammit, Conan had slept in the stables at his father's home, curled in the hay along with their plow horses, Vixen and Chivalry. There, those two equines had been his family: Vixen the kind, soft-eyed mother, and Chivalry his large and muscular guardian. He'd kept to the stable for three solid days, crying non-stop, when old Vixen had finally died. Chivalry had done his best to comfort him, curling about him as Vixen always had, and the boy had leaned on his warm side and cried into the stallion's mane, but it hadn't been the same. He'd risen from the hay, that third day, a much harder boy than he'd lain down the first.

These were the thoughts that kept Conan quiet as Nadeem made his remarks, but the comment on his voice did finally break him from his reverie, enough to take the paper up once more.

I COULD GIVE YOU ANY OF A NUMBER OF PRETTY ANSWERS, BUT IN THE END, THE TRUTH IS THAT I DON'T KNOW. IT JUST VANISHED, ABOUT THE SAME TIME I WENT TO THE HOSPITAL, JUST AFTER YOU AND ARALYN LEFT. I HAD A SEIZURE, AND THE DOCTORS WROTE IT UP TO THAT, BUT I REALLY DON'T KNOW. ALL I KNOW IS THAT I CAN MAKE NO SOUND.

Nadeem Tarak & Abhay

Abhay was content to just stand there and let Conan scratch his muzzle, "You see, this guy is nice. Maybe you can walk, and he can ride in the saddle. Cause really, I don't want to carry two of you." He went on, eyes half-lidded as he continued to enjoy the sensation on his muzzle.

Now that the stallion at least seemed to be acting civil and not pestering them, Nadeem offered his full attention to Conan once more. "I am sorry to hear that." He had some medical knowledge, but nothing near the extend that might help him uncover the source of Conan's muteness. Deciding it was best to steer off that track, he forced himself to bring up the issue that had brought them to talking in the first place, "I suppose we are not helping your brother any by standing around here." Setting a determined facade, Nadeem mustered the strength to continue on in an unflinching voice, "Unless you have another plan, I could scout around town and see if I can locate them." He was almost tempted to ask about accquiring help from Mr. Linus, as he had come to understand that the man had ways with obtaining information on others. But something about the guy greatly unnerved Nadeem.

Conan

There's another national anthem
For the ones who never win.
For the suckers, for the pikers, for the ones who might have been.
There are those who love regretting
There are those who like extremes
There are those who thrive on chaos and despair
There are those who keep forgetting how
the country's built on dreams.

Conan continued to stroke the soft nose at his shoulder, and shrugged off Nadeem's voiced sympathy. The lack of voice was just another drop in the vast bucket of things that were troubling the boy at the moment. And Nadeem quickly touched up the most vital drop at the moment.

Much as he wanted to go raring into whatever Headquarters the CS possessed, wild-eyed and guns flailing, even the wilder side of Conan had to admit that this was unlikely to help Raimi. So instead he forced a calm nod to affirm Nadeem's words.

We're the other national anthem, folks,
The ones who can't get in
To the ballpark.
Listen hard...
Like the other national anthem says to each and every man,
'If you can't do what you want to,
Then you do the things you can!'

Nadeem Tarak & Abhay

Hello darkness, my old friend,
I've come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain,
Still remains,
Within the Sound of Silence.

With the go-ahead to start the mission, Nadeem needed now to figure out just how he'd go about the task. Ride Abhay, or take his truck? Both forms had their advantages and drawbacks, but he quickly settled on the vehicle, which he knew could take more bullets than Abhay if he ran into trouble. And besides, Nadeem hadn't failed to notice the subtle reaction that the stallion had gotten out of Conan, and the way the boy seemed to be lost in his thoughts for that previous moment. "If you want, you're more than welcome to stay here, or take Abhay on a ride. I... I'll be back in a little while." Really, he had no idea how long he'd be out, for he'd never actually spied on anyone before.

Stepping out of the door, Nadeem briefly laid his eyes on the riffle, which he hadn't seen until this point. A twinge of surprise and fear bolted down his spine, but he refrained from showing the sudden trepidation, and instead went dutifiully on towards his truck.

Abhay pawed once at the ground, turning his head and perked his curved ears towards his retreating master, 'What? Hey, no fair!" He complained, as the vehicle roared to life and began to back down the long lane.

People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share,
And no one dared...
Disturb the Sound of Silence.

Conan

Is there anyone who's been there?
Are there any hands to raise?
Am I the only one who's traded
in the altar for a stage?
The performance is convincing
and we know every line by heart.
Only when no one is watching
can we really fall apart.
But would it set me free
if I dared to let you see
the truth behind the person
that you imagine me to be?
Would your arms be open,
or would you walk away?
Would the love of Jesus
Be enough to make you stay?

He felt, more than saw, Nadeem react to the rifle, but he did not comment on it. He hadn't really been intending to use the weapon unless the man proved... difficult. It was mostly a token he carried with him: this was Aralyn's rifle, and a way of bringing with him a weapon and a tie to memory at the same time.

But as soon as the soft rumbling of the engine faded into the distance, Conan sank down against the door jamb, abruptly sitting there as if he'd been carrying the weight of the world across his chest, and suddenly found it removed, and himself able to breathe again. He turned now and faced Abhay, reaching up from his crouch and still managing to scratch the stallion's nose. Finally... someone who wants to help, and doesn't want me to kill anyone..., his eyes said.

Are we happy plastic people,
under shiny plastic steeple
with walls around our weakness
and smiles that hide our pain?
But if the invitation's open
to every heart that has been broken,
maybe then we close the curtain
on our Stained Glass Masquerade...

Abhay

"Oh, hey, no! No, no, that's not what you're suppose to be doing!" Abhay complained tossing his head a bit stubbornly when Conan reached to scratch it, "Nadeem might have abandoned me, so now you have to entertain me." The stallion demanded, giving Conan's shoulder a forceful nudge that could easily be taken as a show of affection. "Get up, boy, come on!"

Conan

When his hand missed Abhay's muzzle, he looked up at the stallion, head cocked to the side in a wordless question. The horse's little affectionate cuff startled a wheezing breath out of him that would have been a laugh, if it had possessed sound, but it did not get the message across. Instead, he reached his hand up to bat gently at the nose, in a half-playful sort of way.

Abhay

The stallion snorted, pawing again at the ground, "Oh, so you want to play that game, huh?" He questioned mischiefly, before bringing his muzzle down a good deal harder, trying to box the teen's shoulder and knock him over in his own playful gesture. But that was the extent of his game, because he had found out that humans often reacted badly if you knocked them down too many times. "Well, if you're not going to take me on a ride, you can at least sit guard here and make sure no wolves get me." Abhay stated, drawing his head up now and reaching over to nimble at some of the bare twigs of the bushes lining the house.

After more than a half-hour had passed, a phone began to wring inside the house. After shrilling three times, the device switched over to the answering machine and Nadeem's voice sounded, "Conan, if you're still there, I've got some news for you. Raimi's at Orca Bay, with a young woman and what looks to be five guys down at the docks." There was a pause as Nadeem thought about what to do next, since Conan couldn't exactly pick up the phone and talk back, if he even heard the message. "If you're getting this, call back at 867-5309."

Conan

Indeed, the stallions attempt sent the teen sprawling, but unlike some others, he understood this was a game, and swatted back at the nose, a shy smile on his face. After that, he was mostly content to watch Abhay graze.

Of course, until the phone shrilled at him. At first, he didn't intend to answer it, but when he heard the slightly muffled sound of Nadeem's voice, he was up in a flash, coming into the room barely in time to here the message. "I've got some news for you. Raimi's at Orca Bay, with a young woman and what looks to be five guys down at the docks." That message lightened his load a bit, for at least the child wasn't missing any longer, and he felt that Nadeem would have sounded more worried if the toddler had been injured. Just barely waiting enough time for the man to hang up, Conan immediately lifted the receiver again and dialed the number, waiting for Nadeem to pick up before he used a fingernail to tap the receiver repeatedly several times, sending a clicking noise over the line and letting the other know that it was him.