[ Jack walked easily through the night, taking in the silence and the quiet rhythms of the city as he scoured every nook and cranny for some hint of how to return home. He had an orange in hand, tossing it gently as he walked and catching it with the deftness of hours of practice. He had been forced to return to the world of the living, no longer allowed to sulk and waste away in the quiet peace of his rooms thanks to a friend, but now, he simply felt restlessness in every step and each passing hour.
But he is not so callous as to step on the man passed out in the street (although it is a near thing indeed) and with a plop as he drops his orange, he kneels, gently shaking the poor man's shoulder. If there's no response, he may just have to go riffling through the young man's robes for ID or... something. ]
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But he is not so callous as to step on the man passed out in the street (although it is a near thing indeed) and with a plop as he drops his orange, he kneels, gently shaking the poor man's shoulder. If there's no response, he may just have to go riffling through the young man's robes for ID or... something. ]