Cyrus groaned when his subject threw her bowl of stew, creating quite the mess. "She's like a child..." He grinned and shook his head. At least she was cleaning it up. "Wiflor." He said to get her attention. He pointed to the bed he made. "This is yours." He repeated the word "Yours" again. He then walked up to her and pat her on the head before going ot his own bed and plopping down on it, not even bothering to cover himself up. He went to sleep.<br/><br/>The next day, he would wake Wiflor up very early, for they had a long journey to the city. They traveled along the road for the day, finally making it to Jorgenstead a couple of hours past midday. Cyrus had her on a leash that he used to keep his dog on. He wasn't entirely sure about her yet and so took as many precautions as he could. Once inside the city, it wasn't difficult to find the residence of Cyrus's friend. There was a large tower that peaked over everything else in the city. The tower just screamed "A WIZARD LIVES HERE."<br/><br/>Cyrus approached the tower and knocked on the door. An elderly man with a long white beard answered. He carried a gnarled walking stick and wore black and red robes. "Ah, Cyrus, my old friend. What brings you to the city?"<br/><br/>"Guess." Cyrus replied, gesturing to Wiflor. The old wizard looked down at the creature.<br/><br/>"Very well. Come inside." Cyrus would lead Wiflor inside. They all sat in the wizard's study. "A very peculiar subject you have there. What's your name, dear?" He asked Wiflor, assuming she could speak.