The patter of rain on the roof brings a smile to Kiel's lips as he turns a page in his newest book. Propped up against his knees the hardcover's pages flicker slightly in the candlelight as he reads. His eyes dart across the page, fully captured but his latest read. Around him his small room if covered with books and papers, leaving only a few small paths to get around from one side to the other, and a final little path to the door. Spending most of his time either in church or out on the streets, Kiel has never felt the need to keep his room clean. The small side bedroom attached to his is mostly free of clutter, but a few stacks of books have found their way into the doorway, blocking it from being able to close.

As the rain continues he looks up from the book, his eyes trailing over to the window. With a sigh he notes that the rain has partially found it's way inside and the edge of his bed now has a fine mist on it. Tilting forward on to his knees, the bed creaking in protest to the sudden action, he reaches out and pulls the window completely shit, latching it's large old fashioned hook. Looking back to his book, now settled face down on the bed he lets out another sigh and saves his place before placing it on his nightstand atop an ever growing pile of books.

Standing the young priest starts shedding his layers to get ready for bed. Kiel has always enjoyed his life at the church. The simple life, the doing good, it all leaves him with a very content feeling every night. However, his mind shifts often to all the people he's unable to help. All the children still lost and in need out there. He bites his lip softly as he clears a chair to sit on so he can get his shoes off. Just over a week ago, he'd lost a young girl to an overdose. The teens that are constantly at his side when maneuvering the slums told him that they'd found her, and given her her last rights and the like. He had wanted to see her, but they had already taken her in to the police so they could give her a burial.

Stretching Kiel pulls off his top and is just about to grab his nightgown when a knock at his door causes him to freeze. [i]'No one visits at this hour. All the others are either asleep or working on tomorrow's sermon'[/i] A jolt goes through him. [i]'Maybe it's one of the kids'[/i] With that thought in mind he makes his way to the door and cracks it open slightly. The sight that greets him causes him to throw the door wide. “What?! Are you alright?!” He cries, reaching out to pull the young man inside. The patches of blood on his clothing make his stomach turn. He doesn't even seem to notice that he's getting soaked as he pulls the boy inside and kicks the door shut behind him. Guiding the boy over to the recently cleared off chair he encouraged him to sit while trying to get a look at the boy's wounds. “What happened? Who did this? Does it hurt? Where are you hurt?” The questions keep tumbling from his lips as heart beats loudly in his ears.