For a moment he said nothing, just watched the creature-no Octavian-stand there. There was a bit of mild surprise that the other could understand him, but so had the two before. It seemed as though they were not the exception to the rule. It just made his actions all the more heinous. The actions of all the Keepers. Some had laughed, found the brutal and public execution of two people-a mother and child-who'd done nothing wrong to be amusing. As though it'd been entertainment. Others had consoled themselves with the fact if they hadn't stuck first then they'd be the ones dead. Most had seen it no different than putting down a dangerous animal.<br/><br/>But they'd done nothing wrong. They'd slipped through the gap to find shelter. They could have just been walked out but...<br/><br/>Byron shifted his gaze to the rifle he held in his hand, "I suppose you're right,"<br/><br/>He propped the gun against the wall. He couldn't use it anyway. Even if he managed to aim and lift it he couldn't pull the trigger.  He couldn't stand the sound. The sight of blood. Watching a body crumple to the ground like a puppet with it's strings cut. He couldn't do it.<br/><br/>It was then he realized that Octavian had asked his name. He shifted his gaze back to the other's. Sorrel settling on Lilac, "Byron, my name is Byron,"<br/><br/>He then fell silent again. What was he supposed to say? No one ever had conversations with him. They'd ask him to do things or give him orders but no one ever wished to just speak with him. He'd seen other's conversations over the years. If he thought hard he could even remember the way his parents spoke to each other. All warm and hushed tones. Bright smiles. He could even remember the way they spoke to him. Did he smile back then? Did he blush? Show any emotion what so ever? Did his tone change? Did he laugh? He couldn't remember. Perhaps he'd always been vacant. Eyes half lidded as though he was sleep walking through life.<br/><br/>It didn't matter, but...he wanted to talk to Octavian. To know more about what the outside was like. To know if it was like the places he'd read about in old books. To hear how it'd changed. How different things where.<br/><br/>Yet when he managed to open his mouth that wasn't what came out, "Why did you come here?"<br/><br/>Byron was curious but with the fact that his voice was deep and monotone it made it sound almost angry. Anger was far from what he felt however.<br/><br/>"I mean...what are you doing here?" That didn't sound much better. Byron just wanted to ask what brought Octavian there. If there where others like him nearby. Why he came if there was a risk of running into the Keepers. Though the Keepers never left the walls so the smaller man couldn't know what they where. That Byron was one of them. Despite the fact that he put the gun down his hands continued to shake. The slight tremors still going unnoticed by Byron.