Illumin0sity

Journey to the East

Noah’s ears opened to Elann producing the similar pitch, repeating her name in his bird-speak. It wasn’t until she slid from the wagon down onto the ground did he look at her though. Elann was quietly walking behind the wagon, her hands behind her back as she subtly skipped from time to time. There was a lull that he liked, and though he couldn’t tell what she was thinking, he could see the gears turning in her head. It was a quiet he appreciated. What little wind there was in the overcast sky was moodless in its blow, nothing discernable to be gleaned from them.

In the past few days Elann’s quietness had been relaxing to the Kelvic. Whether she knew it or not, she was entirely too intense sometimes. Lately it had been at a new level of intensity, their bond having no rest except for when they were sleeping. He wasn’t a creature like that though, and it was where they seemingly conflicted. She wanted conversation, constant stimulation; he wanted to live in quiet existence, able to come and go with a piquing interest that could wane just as quickly as it came. His end of the bond couldn’t take the flooding emotions she could pour out into it. She was hardly calm for long, to him, whereas he was seemingly floating in tranquility consistently. Any calm that she exuded onto the bond was quickly banished when she felt a surging emotion that instantly travelled its way to him. It was, without a doubt, jarring.

That wasn’t to say he couldn’t be sensationally heightened himself. The differences were it was difficult to get him to those states. A fester middle-ground of emotional rarely happened, and when it did it was onerous for him to deal with. Plainly speaking, his emotions were softly felt until they weren’t: he could be happy, but his happy would be a quiet hum of soft joy; he could be angry, but his anger was torrential, explosive, and relentless. Obviously, he preferred the former over the latter as the latter could be entirely too exhausting to the lightweight who was kindly-minded by default. Want all Elann could, more was an immense request.

As if roosting, Noah watched the world around Elann before watching the Benshira herself. It might’ve been a familiar sight, his silent and rarely blinking stare, to her. Noah rest his head against the wagon’s frame to his left, eyes slowly going over Elann and her physique, taking in her hair and how it moved in a similar way to the garments she was wearing; her eyes, which were deep like sapphires; and her walking skip. Unspeaking, he watched on.

Journey to the East

The finch bobbed and twitched rapidly in its movements. It’s head, like Noah’s, seemingly flicked here and there. Though Noah couldn’t do as much when he was a man, his eyes often did the same flicking and twitching movements when he was assessing a situation or meeting a person for the first time. The Kelvic enjoyed his little friend, all three of them quiet as Noah watched what the finch went about investigating. It almost hopping along as it moved from Noah’s finger up his arm. A smile cracked on Noah’s face as the tiny talons peppered across his forearm’s skin. The further the finch went to Noah’s elbow joint, the smile grew until it parted and a small chuckle came from him.

Stopping, the finch turns its attention to Elann and leaned forward towards her, head jerking and turning as it investigated her silently. Noah watched the bird with the same curious eye, wondering what would happen next. In the next moment the finch tweeted something out to Elann. Noah answered for her, whistling slowly. Turning, the bird set its attention on Noah. The Kelvic whistled again, slowly and being particular about the tone. There was a pause on the finch’s end, yet, after a minute, it repeated the tone in its own way. Noah sang it one more time, emphasizing the ending as if fixing pronunciation. The finch looked at Noah peculiarly before whistling the tone again, pitch perfect but voice different because of the species. Noah tweeted something encouragingly tuned. Then, the finch turned back to Elann and whistled the tune again. Once more, Noah whistled in encouragement.

The finch tweeted out something else to which Noah replied with a slightly different tune. After a bow, the finch hopped back towards Noah’s hand and then pushed off from the fleshy perch to rejoin its kin in the trees to the right. With his friend departed, Noah slumped back to the left, resting his shoulder against the canvas of the wagon’s backing. His head lulled to the side as well and he took a careful breath.

“Elann,” he said quietly, not in calling but in statement. He repeated the slow whistle again, even slower for Elann’s untrained ears to his avian language. It was a simple two syllable tune, something sharp and singsong. “Your name,” he informed. He was sure all she could hear was the sound of the tune, and wouldn’t truly understand how unique it was to her in the millions of calls that the birds could have, but he saw the significance behind it and could digest each layer of the tune, human or eagle.

“She asked who you are,” he told Elann, sitting straight, a wince on his face. “I created your name and told it to her.” Noah's gaze didn't fall to Elann again, instead looking off to the left where the grass was.

Journey to the East

Noah looked to the right side of the caravan behind them, noting how the grass just off the side of the road swayed in the breezes he wished he were on. As it were, he was not, and was there at the edge of the wagon because he could not fly. He could barely even move without pain. Despite that, sitting still bore the same pain; he was in it now, sitting there with his shoulder and head against the caravan. There was a useless and pathetic air about him. He could feel it himself, not blind to his pitiful plight, an image of honor felled and tarnished.

Atop of this, Elann seemed a bit far off from him. Whereas before he wouldn’t have minded it, having adored the quiet between them during the beginning of the trip, but following their fight he feared as if something was afoot with her behavior. The few words she did speak to him were of her engagement, asking if he was alright or if he needed anything. The answer was the same each time: “I’m doing fine” or “I’m alright” or “It hurts”. There was little else to say and they weren’t differing in their meaning, they also were honest in their saying. It had been hours since her last check-in, so he was left to think whatever he wished of the situation. The thoughts weren’t entirely good given his mindset.

Noah lost track of how long he had been sitting on the edge, his mind floating from topic to topic; his eyes shifting from object to object; his conscious zipping in and out, dozing. Over the hours, as they waned, he grew more pained in his side but didn’t will himself to ask for any medicine. He felt the driver of the other wagon’s eyes on him. He was staring at the downed Kelvic, and Noah could see it plainly. A few times already Noah had caught the man’s gaze because he felt himself being stared upon.

He didn’t hear Elann coming, nor did he feel her until she was seated beside him. The presence of her body stopping the wind from hitting his injured side in full was what brought his attention to her there. Noah looked to her hand on his leg and then up to her. As he turned, his cheek was grazed with her lips before she pulled back and asked her question.

He shrugged his shoulder, wincing afterwards, causing them to settle again. “Not really,” he voiced. “They’re frustrating.” Noah’s words were mumbled and bored sounding. Yet, a perk came to him as the birds flew overhead, hoping from way bank of trees to the opposite across the road. He leaned forward to see over the wagon’s roof ahead and listened to the sharp singing. Then, he produced it quietly himself to harmonize with the above flock.

When the keys were right in his mind, his whistle grew a little louder. He got a reply, returned it, then got another from one of the few small birds. He called again, pitching it curiously. There was a lull, the birds drawing quiet before they fluttered overhead again, one of them breaking formation to dip down towards the Kelvic sitting at the edge of the wagon. The bird was a finch, and it came down to rest on Noah’s slowly extended forefinger. It landed, tiny talons gripping the eagle’s finger. Seemingly fearless, the bird let Noah’s other hand come up to stroke it’s head gently. Then, Noah cooed, catching the finch’s attention all the more. It called back in a quiet way, staying there.

Journey to the East

Another night in the wagon it seemed. Noah was disappointed but was too groggy to show it. He was awake but his body was overtaken by the drugs still. He felt sluggish, his mind moving leagues faster than his body. He had the pillow and was lying on his front-side. He yearned to stretch his legs and move, yet, how it was, he could not and was left to lie there.

Aimee nodded at Elann when the Benshira said she would return in a bit. Once she left, her attention turned back to Noah and she went to lie down as well. Her head set by his as he looked around quietly. His silence was a normalcy to her, and in this injured state, he seemed to be slipping back into that. She thought it entirely peculiar and out of character for him to have been talking so much, but she once chalked it up to the changing influences of Elann. The Benshira, in Aimee’s opinion, could be a chatterbox. Naturally Noah would’ve aligned himself to that in order to better fit his mate, but as it were now he seemed relieved to not be speaking as much.

As Elann was away, Aimee stayed with her brother in his silence, looking where he looked or just there into his eyes as they both searched for something indescribable. The curiosity in the air was palpable between the two as they caught up in silence without speaking words. There was an apparent hurt and dullness to her brother’s sharp eyes that she could see, and he could see the same loss of shine in hers. Together they had been through a lot, and it just went on to continue to show how their fates were star-crossed regardless of distance.

In her time observing Noah and Elann, Aimee had formulated many opinions based on assumption and observation alone. She felt it wasn’t entirely her place to butt into the bond of her brother because he wouldn’t go butting into hers, but her intrigue was far too high for her to remain silent any longer. She felt she would need to voice something soon or she would burst with withheld questions, concerns, and warnings.

Looking to her brother, she knew he had seen his fair share of utterly jarring changes and misunderstandings. At first she blamed Syliras, but then realized her brother hardly felt the need to interact with people on a social basis, let alone business either. In the first year of him living on his own in Syliras he would send two letters a month, one to their mother and one to her so they knew how he was doing. He explained his hardships, explained how he felt about Syliras, and then asked for advice. Sometimes, in the somber letters, he would admit to wanting to be back in Zeltiva. Every time the somber letters came in Aimee had encouraged him to come home because she missed him, but upon their mother sending a letter telling him to stay and wait it out, he would stay. Over time, Noah stopped sending letters altogether, and it was then that Aimee had felt the same disconnect that distance brought. Now, here she was looking at a man that was hard to remember. Parts of him were either missing or changed and it was unnerving to see. His personality, though it was quiet, was also so vibrant to her. She didn’t see that now.

Hearing someone approaching the wagon, Aimee sat up and waited. Elann’s frame appeared, a pot of tea thunking onto the wooden floor of the wagon. The Benshira shoved it further into the wagon and then Aimee moved to pull it towards the front with the rest of their things. There was nothing Aimee needed nor wanted, and Noah seemed to be content in his loopy state. Elann was off again, coming back with food for both of the Kelvics later. Aimee had helped Noah sit up in the meantime and when it came to him eating, she tested the waters for what he could and couldn’t do before asking if he needed help. If he was anything like her father and brother, which he was to some degree, he’d rather test his limits before asking for aid.

When it did come time for him to relieve himself he asked to be helped out of the wagon but refused help from that point on. Aimee persuaded him to at least let them escort him to the thicket, but from then on he insisted on doing it himself. “I’m not broken,” he lied, pulling away from the two women slowly afterwards. Aimee nodded patiently and folded her hands to wait. When he was done they escorted him back to the wagon and helped him into it.

After another dose of medicine, Noah was sleeping until morning came. Even as the wagon jostled down the road he was quiet, though he was awake. There was an ache in his side but he was tired of sleeping every time he hurt. At that point he’d rather just deal with it, if only to stay awake for an hour or so more. That morning he sat on the wagon’s edge, his feet dangling as his hands sat in his lap, nowhere else for the right one to go without causing him pain. Though there was another wagon behind theirs, Noah seemingly stared past it, looking to the sides were the birds called around and the breezes drifted through the air. Both tent flaps were open, but he sat on the left side, shoulder up against the canvas, his head resting off to the side in his sad boredom.

Aimee was napping beside one of the benches, her human form huddle underneath the blankets Noah called a bed. The sky was pale with clouds that day, forcing Syna to peek through holes when she could. Noah wanted it to rain, and he wanted it to rain down hard.

Journey to the East

Falling into relief, Noah closed off his bond slowly. It was more than likely that if Elann was awake she would’ve felt the terror in the nightmare and the deep panic in the Kelvic’s heart. As she was not, it was doubtful much was felt aside from the last bits of terror before the bond fell quiet. Aimee decided to stay with him, much to his relief, and both of the Kelvics turned their heads to view Elann as she shifted beside Noah. Aimee nodded at the Benshira’s words, voicing that Noah had a nightmare and that it was over. The wolf also restated the caravan had ceased its travel for the night and that the tents were going to be put up, also that dinner would be prepared soon.

“I can help you put the tent up,” Aimee said to the Benshira. “If you want, that is.”

Noah had asked her to stay so she assumed that it meant stay around the camp and not directly with him. Hopefully he would groggily go back to sleep, but as she peered at him it became apparent that his fright had effectively shaken him awake.

There was a dull pain in Noah’s side still, the medicine still in effect if only barely. It seemed his nightmare had woken him up midway through the drug’s passage through his system. It remained and his body was still relaxed because of it. Yet, his head was whirling and his eyes were alert, moreso than they had been in the past few days. To him, the nightmare was all too vivid to not continually play over in his head. It wasn’t often that he had dreams, given the lightness of his usual sleep, but this one was far too deep to escape the dream realm he was seemingly sucked in.

He took a breath to steady himself, forsaking his wounds for mental stability. The breath was let out raggedly because of the expanding of his cage against the stitches, but it was well worth it. As he looked between the two women, the side of his face on the edge of the pillow, he thought on his dream and wondered what truth it held within.

Journey to the East

Noah nodded to Elann’s words and took the sugar cube into his mouth, desperate to be rid of the bitter taste even if it wasn’t as bad as the pain he felt. Noah only wanted the one, and grew quiet as Elann bid the sack of cubes away. She petted his hair softly, though her previous encouragements didn’t do their job to full effect. She said it wouldn’t be like last time, that he would be up, but he doubted it silently. He listened though, and attempted to heed her words over his injuries. His pain was still present and aching, yet Elann slid into his blanket-bed to sleep alongside him.

Consciously, he wasn’t ignoring her, just focused on himself and his own pain, but as she came into his space he considered the pain he had in a selfless sense. She felt it too, and though she had encouraged him to let her feel his pain too, it was something he didn’t want her to have. Looking at her as she asked Aimee to sing more, he closed off his end of the bond, relieving her of the ache as Aimee nodded to Elann’s question. Noah hugged his pillow with the one hand and closed his eyes to sleep, not worrying about Elann’s retaliation because he felt as if he was in the right.

Aimee’s soft voice sang softly down to the couple until she was sure they were both asleep. She busied herself then, taking to reading then walking outside. She wouldn’t leave her brother again, she resolved, deciding to stick to the caravan until he was healed again. She stayed outside until night came, creeping back into the caravan where she saw Noah stirring slightly. Her ears heard his muffled moan, but it wasn’t in physical pain. Her brother’s eyes were shut but there was a sweat on his brow and a muttering coming from his lips now.

The wagon rocked as it went slightly off road, almost throwing Aimee off balance as she crept curiously towards her brother and Elann. She caught her balance, throwing her hands out to her sides and wobbling on one leg, her dancer’s grace keeping her from being thrown into the bench. Once the wagon settled she set her foot down on the floors and dropped down to her knees instead, crawling towards her brother. When she got to him her hand came up and patted his cheek a few times, hushed voice calling his name until his eyes cracked open to search for her. When their eyes met she showed him a small reassuring smile.

“Hey, it was just a dream,” she said softly. She pinched his cheek lightly, watching as his face turned from apparent fear to relief. “It’s time to get up anyway. We’re at the campsite.” She peered at the lump his thin frame made in the blanket. “How’re you doing?”

“Fine,” he said dryly. “Hungry.”

Aimee nodded, looking to Elann at Noah’s side. She fell back to sit on her heels, resting her hands on her lap patiently. She hummed thoughtfully for a moment. “Do you want me to get you something?”

“No,” he croaked quietly. “Stay.”

“Okay. We’ll wait then.” Aimee gave him another nod, sliding into a cross-legged sit instead.

Journey to the East

Aimee nodded at Elann’s words and pulled away from Noah briefly, though it did hurt to turn away from her prone brother, if only for a second. She went from him and sought to fetch out the herbs Elann had explained, going for the sugar as well, should it be needed. As Aimee tore away from him, the eagle followed her with desperate eyes, flicking them to Elann as she spoke on him wanted the medicine. He gave her a single nod, ignorant to what leaves were being referred to. He had been under the various medications; he wasn’t keeping track of them. They would help, that’s all he knew.

Aimee came back hurriedly and hovered one of the leaves, void of any sweetening, in front of Noah’s mouth. The eagle sniffed it and snorted it away at first, but Aimee insisted, humming urgently for him to eat it. Heeding her, he did open his mouth for her fingers to stuff it in. Noah made a moan of protest as the bitter juices of the leaf came into his mouth. He persevered through the nasty taste, looking to his sister who extended another bare leaf to him. She wasn’t considering the sugar in the slightest at first, and it wasn’t until he had the two leaves in his mouth did she hand the things over to Elann.

Standing up, she went towards the front of the wagon and went for her mother’s trunk as opposed to her own. The latch was undone and a dress was pulled out without consideration. She tossed it towards the bench, though it didn’t make it all the way, and went to rummaging for something else while Noah chewed through what medicine he was given. Inside, she was deeply apologetic towards her brother for not being present when he was injured. She could’ve been there should she had turned around to check on things. She didn’t. The wolf wasn’t even sure if she could’ve helped anyway, but being present during the incident would’ve put her mind at ease. Regretfully, she fished for a small sewn pillow, slightly aged, and closed the trunk.

She went to the bench and picked up the dress, setting the pillow down while she draped the pale purple garment over her frame. After adjusting it briefly to fit her body over her mothers, she turned back to Noah and Elann with the pillow in hand. It was a very small pillow in comparison to what most had on their beds. It was square shape and seemed to be blue at one point but now that was a faded off-white toned to light blue. It was nearly a decade old, approaching its creation date, but it maintained its shape through the years, only fading in color.

Aimee came down to her knees and set the pillow down by Noah’s head, letting him see and smell it. Slowly, the eagle moved his hand, bearing through the movement to bring it out of the blankets to grasp at the pillow and hold it close to his shoulder, under his chin. He chewed still, swallowing what juices he could before the leaves were near mush in his mouth. Swallowing the leaves themselves was a much slower process but it happened in the end, clearing his mouth to only leave a strong after taste.

Sighing, Aimee calmed herself and sat back on her heels, resting now herself. Noah’s plight took a toll on her. Almost in sync, Aimee knew what to say and what to do to keep her brother from panicking. The last thing she wanted was an angry, shocked bird. Yet, in all truth, she’d rather him be creating storms than lying pitifully on the floor. There was a pathetic air about him that she could sense, and being down like this impacted all of their siblings in much the same way. There was great pride in being at the top of the food chain, yet to have it come crumbling down because of an injury was heartbreaking.

“How long do they take to work?” Aimee asked Elann, hands resting on her thighs, eyes on Noah as he looked at the pillow. The eagle’s fingers clung lightly to the fabric, a resting palm not being enough apparently.

Journey to the East

Noah groaned lowly, shifting his head from either side but couldn’t find Elann in the wagon. His sister was there, but sound asleep despite her hearing. He wondered if she had been up late last night given she didn’t come back until recently – he was guessing. He couldn’t wonder long, what bought out his mind was the ache he was feeling and how deep it ran into his torso. He felt entirely too vulnerable in the moment and it was taking too long for someone to lend the aid he didn’t exactly want. Though it had only been a few moments, he was writhing and pain and growing annoyance with the situation.

As if finally hearing him, Elann came into the tent, handicapped by the communicated pain. He couldn’t get a mind to care for her pain at the moment, she was just sharing a dull version of what he felt. What was breathtaking to her was nearly unbearable for him and he didn’t know why. Maybe it was just the grog of waking up, his senses unprepared to deal with intensity until he was better situated, or maybe there was something else.

Elann came, attempting to put herself underneath the blanket that was strewn across him. He didn’t care in the moment; he was hot. Her question came and all he did was give her a hurtful hum and whine. It seemed Elann’s voice and his pain riddled whine was enough to wake Aimee, because she unraveled herself and sat up, shifting immediately.

Noah felt a hot hand on his cheek and another coming into his hair, his head cupped in soft heat. There was a gentle shushing, something like gently running water and then the voice of his sister’s soft melody singing in delicate Fratava, “Feel the raindrops roll down your face, wrapping you in their liquid embrace. See the blinding lightning, the dark clouds brightening. Taste the crisp water pouring from the sky, the rain leaving nothing dry.”

The tune was deafeningly familiar to the eagle and his pained writhing stopped, him calming as if a spell had been cast to dull his senses. Aimee drew another breath to continue in her gentle melody. “Hear the roaring thunder, filling you with wonder. Know, after this, the thirsty earth will return to bliss,” she sang gently. Then her tone changed to that mimicking of Isabella’s. Her impression was dead on, her singing voice trailing on into something airy and less powerful. “Little dove, little dove, it’ll be alright. The fright, it’ll be gone after tonight. Little dove, little dove… little dove, little dove, it’ll be alright.”

Noah’s annoyance fell. His pain didn’t disappear but he was seemingly enraptured by Aimee’s singing, so much so that the pain was an otherworldly thing. He looked up to his sister, meeting the eyes the same color as his in the moment. There was kind concern in her face, but he could see his mother for a brief moment. As Aimee’s tone fell from its mimicry, she patted him on the face gently, shushing more. “It’s okay, Noah,” she said quietly. “You’re okay.”

Noah’s fidgeting had long stopped and he was lying still, watching his sister’s eyes. “It hurts,” he said in Fratava as well, the weakness of his voice apparent.

Aimee nodded, petting his head, looking to Elann. “Is there anything you can give him now, or do we have to go get the doctor?”

Journey to the East

Should Noah have been Aimee, or a canine, his ears would’ve flicked at the sound of Emery coming back to the wagon. The Kelvic didn’t open his eyes but did listen to what was said. Some pain was an understatement, he thoughtfully commented on Elann’s underplayed words. There was the ruffling of something Noah tried to figure out but ultimately couldn’t at first. It wasn’t until Elann asked if he was warm under his single blanket did he assume that Emery brought more. Elann’s question came and he hummed that he was fine under the single blanket he had, his head turning away from Elann in search of a semi-comfortable position. In the end, his head ended up facing outwards again anyway until he fell asleep entirely.

Morning came and Noah was awake before Emery and his wife came to help the still-waking Elann to aid Noah out of the wagon. Him waking was just ripped with discomfort, the pain in his body all too real in the morning, only a bitter reminder of what happened the day before. Atop of that, he was to be moved from the wagon to the one that belonged to his family. Tortuous as it was, hardly a peep came from him. There were soft groans and whispering whimpers as they brought him down from the wagon; quietness as he was walked to the other wagon; and more of the former when they were getting him into the back of the other wagon. He requested a collection of blankets on the floor to lie on, a few under him and one atop him, and fell asleep soon after any more painkillers were administered. It was as if he never slept the night before, the same solemn silence coming to him and remaining for the hours of the morning until early afternoon when he stirred again.

Waking, Noah smelled the familiar natural scents of the nature around him and thought Elann had been out again but, upon cracking his eyes, he saw that it was Aimee instead. The she-wolf intercepted the caravan in the mid of morning. She confessed to Elann that she had misjudged how far the caravan would go last night, thinking it would go farther based on how far it had gone the previous days. Seeing that Noah was injured, she assumed that was the reason for the caravan’s late arrival and slight loss of time.

Aimee’s black muzzle and red-furred head greeted Noah as he opened his eyes. She laid directly before him, curled up in her own ball of unconsciousness. Just seeing her was a quietly elating thought in Noah’s mind, the creeping sensations of warmth coming to his core at her presence. Dispelled as he woke further, pain set in to replace the warmth and he whined in what sounded like a muffled yelp rather than a whimper. He wanted to kill the roaring in his side with more sleep as it was the only thing that made him unaware of the pain at all. Yet, it was hardly possible to sleep with the full brunt of discomfort weighing down on him.

Journey to the East

Noah hummed in acknowledgement to her thanks, as if saying she was welcome without really humming a noise that sounded anything like the words. Her reaction to him opening the bond was disheartening to see. He didn’t want her to feel what he felt but she insisted. The pain was similar to the early aches in his leg when he was attacked by the wolf alone in the Bronze Woods. They had not been bonded then, and thus she was spared accordingly. Even then, the age of the wound was around two weeks when Elann cared for him that time ago, so he was not in this much pain when she started caring for him. The Kelvic had resolved himself to hurt for the next two weeks, not knowing when he would be up and moving without pain again. He tried not to think on how his mother would react either. She had gone away before he got hurt and would probably find some way to blame herself over it. Little dove, he thought in her voice.

Elann’s cheery welcoming of him was the opposite of what he felt. Apparently she sensed that, saying she would be staying there with him in case he needed anything. She didn’t want him getting up, saying just to ask her and she would get it for him.

“Okay,” he breathed in reply, not liking that.

There was pride in self-sufficiency to him, and perhaps he was too unwilling to swallow it for the sake of his injury. Yet, in his mind, he was a predator and took to loving what he did in the skies. He didn’t have to depend on anyone when he didn’t want to, and he found solace in isolation where others didn’t. Being fussed over and having others do things for him was annoying to deal with, especially when he could do it himself should he have not been injured. He didn’t whine or complain about it though, simply saying okay and leaving it at that, his annoyance fading quickly.

Breathing shallowly, he took in Elann’s new scent and found it familiar to the one she possessed before she adorned herself with rose powder and other soft and light fragrances. He found comfort in the new smell and, with nothing else to do, he wanted to sleep. He started drifting quickly into the transitional phase of sleep, dozing, and if Elann didn’t say anything he would continue on away.