[center][h1] Son of the Wind [/h1][/center]

He felt it before the others had. A shift in the air pressure, an air current most artificial. He had taken in what the boy did, smelling the change in that air as well. So in the end, the response of the scared people, under the tables, told him volumes. And probably he stood out like a sore thumb, just sitting there, cheerfully staring ahead, sticking up at the table. Unless the one who had been going around with the skeleton key got to him too, Chris would have broken free on his own, as with a simple action, during the chaos, he broke his cuffs off, the magic he'd been using having weakened the metal enough to make such doable. But he didn't quite yet begin to take part directly.

Instead, he began to move his hands, back and forth, in a strange, almost mesmerizing fashion, even as his expression grew grim, watching those who fell. It seemed to be he was prepping something, a spell of some sort. The ground shaking from the attempt at tunneling concerned him, who knew, they could be underneath lava, or water. Either would be problematic. Acid in an extreme case. And yet, as he glanced down at the still cowering prisoners, he sighed softly.

[i]"It seems that spirit never does break for some. I hope, that even if this turns out to be in vain, you all find courage to keep you moving through your days."[/i] His words were gentle, and while it was doubtful all, if any would listen, there was a sort of...charisma to his words. The kind of energy that would inspire. It wasn't time yet, he needed more. His gaze had lifted, to focus on the "commander" the one presumably in charge. Hopefully none of the guards would come his way. Last thing he needed was for this to backfire, or have to start the incarnation over...

[i]//This'll be a two parter, mostly because I'm still working on a thing or two. [/i]