Under the Radar (open)

In the six days since his little romp in the park, Amir had been laying low. He would have loved to see the ensuing and no doubt mostly fruitless search of his well-made crime scene, but the unplanned addition of a were had caused some difficulty. He had been some few days recovering after having dragged himself bleeding and dripping innards through the Manor. Low activity and a good number of extra meals had helped put him to rights though, and he was mostly recuperated. His insides were safely back where they belonged and the numerous injuries sustained were now vague echoes. There were some very pale bruises just disappearing in places yet, mostly his stomach and his regenerated left shoulder, which was still giving him a small amount of trouble. The skin had healed over but he suspected not all the bone had yet filled in. It hadn't made any difference though; he'd been able to hunt for himself for the past two nights rather than relying on Bao.

He grinned to himself at the thought. Bao had been less than pleased to discover his creator had gone off and had some fun without him. Amir had still been suffused with the heady exhilaration of the hunt when Bao had found him so he hadn't noticed right away, but the next time he'd seen Bao the man had fairly dripped with disapproval. Amir was having a hard time feeling guilty about it; Bao had his own agenda and Amir stayed out of it, mostly. Bao could do the same.

It was nearly time for him to make another trip into the Park; perhaps further. The investigations were over by now and Amir was anxious to keep whittling away. Nearly, though - not just yet. So tonight he was reading, an activity that calmed him when he was restless. Heolfor's vast acreage was dotted with numerous parks and gardens, and it was into one of these Amir had wandered, one not too far from the Manor itself but enough that the normal nightly traffic wasn't a disturbance.

Tonight's book, a work by a man Amir wished he'd known; Sun Tzu. He'd memorized the Art of War from front to back long ago but it never hurt to refamiliarize himself with its welcoming pages. Subira had been proud of him, yes, but also in her words he'd sensed a note of exasperation. He was her most willful child, he knew, and she cared for him in her way. She had berated him for acting rashly, for using himself as bait when he could have let someone else bear the load. Her harsh words had hidden fear, fear that Amir would someday bite off more than he could chew.

He had laughed at her. Of course he would - someday. That day was in the future. For now, his objective was best achieved by using his own strength and resources. This fear of Subira's - it wasn't born of love, or of any soft sentimentality. No. It was because of all her children, Amir was the oldest, the strongest, the most resilient. There had been others before him but they had perished in one way or another. Amir had remained, a youngling with potential at first; a juvenile with promise next; then one day he'd been someone, older, wiser, stronger... and her favorite.

He didn't worry for his future for the reasons Subira did. He was a tool to her. A well-loved and favorite tool, to be sure, but he was still a piece on her chessboard. To her. To Amir, his loyalty was not to Subira but to the Clan. His values had been put in place by her, and he was ready to give himself for his cause if that was what it took. Amir couldn't help but suffer a selfish hope that it wouldn't get quite that bad, however.

These thoughts of disquiet were distracting though. He'd ridden into Nachton ealier that night and sated his thirst but the hunt had been too easy, not challenging enough. After returning to Heolfor he'd excersized and it had done some good. He'd considered looking for Dana, unable to deny that her company was welcome, but in that area, too, were restless thoughts. She would find him when she was ready, and he would enjoy her company again.

Social interaction must have been on his mind, though, he mused as he flipped the pages of the book and idly skimmed over Chapter Two: Waging War. Surely something in his subconscious was looking for company, or else he would not have chosen a fairly obvious location to sit with his book. Heolfor had many other places for solitude and while he was a little out of the way, this particular garden wasn't one of them.