<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">Ceej was still awake, and the knock made him look to the door slowly, his gaze hazy for a few seconds before seeming to glow red for a few seconds. "You must be the thread which connected to mine," He calls out, knowing that the figure pulled one of the threads to meet his grey dyed cloth on the table. "Though what makes you believe that I have questions?" Conahoy stands from the mattress, his stave in hand before stepping to the door, his hand resting on the bar.<br/>
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With a click of a latch and the bar lifted, Jackson opens the door and steps out, his hand running down the middle of his opened book before the straw that stuck to his robes slowly pull out and fall to the ground in their light fluttering. "I came here with well enough knowledge to support my own motivation, I do not require anything more." He looks to his visitor and tilts his head. "I thought you would have been a little shorter though..." says the barely 18 year old priest of balance, definately making both a joke for the fun of it.</span>