He did not know her name, or who she was for that matter but Isard had a faint idea that she was the Princess. He watched her pass and faintly he remembered a curious child who had ventured too close to his cage for the comfort of the Queen. There was little joy to be found when one’s life was spent wasting in a cage but that child had shown Isard that not all were like the King and Queen—some simply did not know the dangers that many had labeled him with. True Isard would gladly kill any human that got too close to his cage but there were some like the guard sitting before his cage that he could come to find saint like and without prejudice. The man knew that Isard could harm him but he chose to lean with his back against the cage like there was nothing going to harm him. 

[b]”That was the Princess,”[/b] the guard said to him, [b]”I wonder why she always looks at your cage? What does she see, do you think she’s like her parents and sees nothing in this cage?”[/b] His comment made Isard’s eye twitch but he knew that he meant well. Usually it was the guard doing all of the talking, rarely did Isard ever speak. 

[b]”You tell me.”[/b] Isard’s voice was deep and rumbling, much like one would expect of him. 

The guard looked over his shoulder with a slight grin, [b]“I dunno…she might see differently than her parents.”[/b] If the guard were to be caught speaking ill of the King and Queen it spelled death, no matter what. Isard knew at least one other guard had met his fate like that. [b]”I don’t see an empty cage. I just see someone who wants to go home…”[/b] he admitted.

There was a snort of bitter laughter, [b]”I have no home. This damned cage has been my [i]prison[/i] for thirty years.”[/b] 
The guard’s eyes widened, he didn’t know that Isard had een there for that long. [b]”How old are you then?”[/b] He had never been able to get Isard to speak this much before and he had so many questions to ask and—

[b]”Fifty-one.”[/b]

Fifty-one? He looked just a few years older than the guard so how?

[b]”I age differently than you do. By your standards I am somewhere in my twenties.”[/b] he shrugged, [b]”I’ve been about that age…in your human years, for quite a long time.”[/b] Isard fell quiet, he had spoken too much but he didn’t feel as guilty about it. The simple guard seemed curious and it was refreshing to the man in the cage. He had grown used to harsh scowls, slurs and even beatings on the bars of his cage or injections at random times. 

The guard unleashed many other questions, Isard answered only a few of them but the guard seemed to be enjoying their semi-one sided conversation.