The quiet messy noise went on, everyone deep asleep... but Dran was awoken. He stood up and walked around a tight room with bars caging him in. The tail could barely even rested straight, curled up all around the cell. He looked out at the door, the table nearby, the small window that had to be encased with a metal nest. Dim, dark, quiet. He slowly sat down, slowly re-awoken the thoughts he had.
It was inviting, it was gorgious. It was satisfying, it was... filling. Gulping down the sloshy beer, keeping up the good mood, staying drunk and get the innerself out for the show. We knew you love it, we knew you wish for more. And not too far my friend, we had it all just for you. Betray your foes and step on our side, bring us all to the brighter treasury...
He grunted, it started to swirl and he felt like he was dragged in. Kept on the focus, lingering the hypnotizing, why had it knocked him down trying to read it? The silence went on, slowly losing himself in thoughts, sat there with a curling tail wrapping himself. It was cold, but not that cold, though some wamrth would help a lot. The warmth of his father, the warmth of his old dear friend, and mostly, the warmth of his alcoholic rouge...
-Dran...Gon...
A quiet whisper snapped him out of the thoughts, it was Shawon, still dreaming about his son. He leaned further toward the bar, heavily breathing but slowly. Big guy Shawon let out a sleepy yawn and saw the bright teal shining from the cell beside.
-Dran? You awake?
He spoke with a sleepy voice, as he just woke up.
-Shawon, why are we here.
-I'm pretty sure we are missing someone and it's obvious who. You got your bag there?
-I recall having dropped it in the snow... though...
Shawon gave a long sigh and a facepalm, just pure disappointment.
-Hold on, I still have something I kept just at my belt...
Clink clank, the noise went on as he searched through his body full of plated armouries. Quickly slide over a knife he had in his pocket. It was small and had a ragged blade.
-This could work, but we might not make it out in time...
Shawon began to grind the bar immidiately. It was noisy the first few dozen strokes, but later down it got smoother and smoother. The heavy breath kicked in, it was slow, tedious and tiring. And thus he kept it going through the entire night... and Dran slowly fell back asleep, curled himself up and slept flat on the empty stone floor.
___
It was a whole day, no one checked in. Shawon finally tired himself out from the grinding. He let out loud his heavy breathing. The muscle on his arms sore. The cloak and shirts all soaked, plates steamed of moist air. Heavily pouring out sweat, he lied flat on the floor and letting out a big round belly hanging in front of him.
-I wish I can see it properly. But you really got that far on the process.
But not long later, he fell asleep in exhaustion. Body still all soaked.
-So what do we do now? The knife was the only sharp thing I had.
-I really don't know. Shawon seems to have been beaten from all that exhaustion, he shall come back eventually.
And the faint noise of cheering went on, it was noisy and crowded. Seemingly they had once again returned. The sun went down slowly, it started to dim darker and the sun shone upward the roof, eventually faded away below the horizon...
___
And the night went on, it was Ravirk stomped into the room, hand that time held a big barrel, sloshing inside more of the beer as it dripped slowly all over the floor. Spoke to the whole with his gassy voice and the smell of the beer:
-Hic, you all doing well? We got more grabbed and there now even more for the everybody.
He said as he clumpsily walked toward the cell, looked and loomed over:
-Hey big guy, ya looking beat up inside huh? All smell and soaked ya got in there. Belly hanging up, round and flat on the ground.
Slowly he leaned toward the bars but suddenly it collapsed, no other than those grind that made it. The thing was that Shawon was still asleep but awoken by a heavy metal bird just dropped on him. While in the sleepy head, he pushed over and stood up to see the bars had been broken down.
-Guuuhhhh... what all these stuff here...
Shawon quickly pulled up his cloak and searched all over his body, did not seem to have a key for the other cells. Looking at Ravirk... or rather a drunken rogue, all drunk and tiredsome. Eyes still red, got some deep scratches on the cloak, and himself bigger as it should.
-This ruined the entire thing. He broke down the bar and now I can't really wait for one of them to come in with a key.
-So what will we do? You go back to grinding with that tiring arm?
Shawon stood there outside the cell, in silence, looked at Dran, Dirotor and Worgan still in the cell. Let out a deep sigh, and said:
-Guess I go on a mission. Really don't know what to do with Ravirk, hope he stays here for a good moment and no one come by. See you all in a bit.
And Shawon quickly turned toward the door, softly openned it and peaked out. Then slowly stepped out and closed the door back in.
-I guess he had to go and see what he could do. Dran, you good overthere?
Just apart by a crushed cell that Shawon broke out, a dim teal light shone up said:
-I'm well, really hope he got something for us. Though I seem to have struggle reading minds of Ravirk. The more I looked at it, the more words echo in my mind and eventually it got me a headache. Really don't know how would I react to being what Ravirk is in right now.
-Dran? I have to remind you that-
Worgan spoke up but Dran just:
-JUST NEVER BRING THAT UP, thanks.
Worgan got the frighten, the chill, the guilt grew down onto him again. As he collapsed onto Dirotor, slowly tearing out in pain. No one said a word, no one made a noise than the heavy breath of the leviathan, sitting in his own confined room. Letting out the growl, deep but full of anger. Never had anyone seen Dran spoke up and stepped over anyone, shouted back at his own people. What went through his mind had to be complicated, and the suffering had taken enough of him. The tradegy of abusive past, manupilative had blinded his thoughts. The sudden loud metal noise made, the whole room shook, those violence noise being stomped. It was him, punching at those wall... harshly. The wall cracked, pieces rolled down, scattered all over the ground. Worgan had pushed himself against the corner, left Dirotor from the wall. All frighten, pain and tragic memories, they all came back to haunt them all once again...
