It was just as well that Amadan wasn't much of a cleaner. Neither was Drae, and he wasn't exactly hurting for a maid. He lived in a perpetual state of structured chaos. Living in  a wholly sterile, organized environment did nothing for a creature so accustomed to clutter. He knew precisely where to find what he needed in his own residence; tidying up would serve as a detriment.<br/><br/>Gumbo would have to do for now. Not gumbo of Drae's own making, no. It came from a dim kitchen somewhere on the eastern end of Royal, where an elderly creole man with a neck tattoo toiled day in and day out, measuring what Drae felt was just the right shrimp to okra ratio. He placed orders from him twice a week, Mondays and Thursdays, and had become enough of a constant presence that he could simply pick up the neatly wrapped stacks of plastic and styrofoam from the employee door. Easier that way. Fewer people.<br/><br/>Emptying the contents of the container into the pot, the heat beneath set to medium, Drae leaned against the countertop and crossed his arms, peering at his new houseguest. "Don't thank me just yet," he replied. "I'm not entirely sure how much help I'll be. Spiders tend to be largely solitary, as I'm sure you're well aware, and I've been told that I'm not the easiest person to live with."<br/><br/>Not that he had cohabitated in quite some time. It had been ages since Aelyn had departed from his life - or as Drae preferred to think of it, since he had been forcibly removed. Like a tumor. He had been far too tidy, even for an elf, not to mention as cruel as he was beautiful. Though the Hex'ras would never admit it, he was easy prey for blond hair, blue eyes, and a pretty face. His Achilles Heel. Drae was certainly no simpering, lovestruck youth, though Aelyn had long made him feel like one. Every so often, he crossed paths with the flaxen-haired, silver-tongued son of a bitch, and the briefest of meetings would simultaneously make him melt and remind him why he chose to live alone.<br/><br/>Until now.<br/><br/>Amadan was something near to kin. A spider lived within him, which would ever endow the Hex'ras with a sense of duty to shelter him. Something of a penance, he mused, after deserting his own kind for the outside world. Perhaps he had earned this.