He had perked her interest.  No one really cared to talk to Errol about the things he wanted to talk about; still, he had to be cautious not for his sake, for hers.  Perhaps she had been ripped from some villages during the Crusades.<br/><br/>Still, he continued.  "Painting is of you.  Wait."  He looked for a small book, his English book.  He flipped through the pages, then he said, "Oh, I see."  Then he continued, as if he was trying to reteach himself the rules of English.  Finally, he put the book down and continued.<br/><br/>"Still bad in English, no one to talk to.  But trying to remembering my rules.  Ascended Ones ... Demons ... Ascended Ones ... sometimes called Angels.  Not too many angels; all angels fight in heaven, and now ... demons on the earth.  Not the fault of humans, but the Gargoyles say it was human's fault.  No, it was fault of Angels; demons are fallen from heaven.<br/><br/>"I will become Ascended One:  Avatar ... Human-Angel of Virtue and what is right."  Then he stopped talking.  "Or maybe it is just my foolish dream."<br/><br/>He softened:  "My name unpronaounceable in English; closest is Errol.  Are you hungry or hurt?  Something I can get for you?"