Ichabod shrugged when Ruin asked him if he was scared -- and then remembered that his gesture couldn’t be seen.  He’d never realized how much meaning was conveyed by visual cues.  How was he supposed to effectively communicate with someone who couldn’t see him and who certainly seemed disinclined to be touched by him?  “Not really,” Ichabod admitted, settling for a verbal answer to Ruin’s question.  “Trouble finds me as easily in a rose garden as in a haunted temple.  I’ve stopped trying to avoid it.”<br/><br/>Ruin’s moan of contentment betrayed the hunger that he’d refused to admit.  Watching the demon tear off a bite of deer, Ichabod expected the whole carcass to disappear in a matter of minutes.  However, to his surprise, Ruin offered to share the meal equally.  Ichabod hesitated for a moment -- but only for a moment.  It did smell wonderful.  Taking the deer from Ruin, Ichabod regarded it thoughtfully.  He’d never considered honoring the animals he ate.  Who would have expected demons to be so spiritual?<br/><br/>After they finished eating, Ichabod did his best to conceal all traces of their campsite --  another skill he’d developed during his travels, which had probably saved his skin more than once.  Then he slung his pack over his shoulders and prepared to get moving.  That was when he noticed Ruin leaning against a tree, looking like he was choking on something.  Ichabod wondered if the demon had accidentally swallowed some inedible part of the deer.  But instead of spitting out a bone, Ruin spit out a brief thanks.  Ruin’s gratitude surprised and touched Ichabod.  Before this, the demon hadn’t thanked him for anything, not even rescuing him from the Duke.  However, Ichabod could tell that the words hadn’t come easily for Ruin , so he knew better than to dwell on them.   “I’m the one who should be thanking you.  You found it, after all.”  A trace of mischievous humor entered Ichabod’s voice.  “We are sticking with that story, right?”<br/><br/>Then Ruin granted him a new nickname.  “Small one?” Ichabod echoed, not sure if he should be amused or insulted.  At least it was an improvement over ‘<span style="font-style: italic">Master</span>’.   “I may not be quite as tall as you, but I’m not a pixie.”<br/><br/>Sprinting after Ruin, Ichabod did his best to get ahead of the demon.  Since he knew where they were going, and could actually<span style="font-style: italic">see</span>, it seemed logical for him to take the lead.  “I’d like to propose a radical idea.  I’ll call you by your name -- not ‘Demon’, or ‘Blackie’, or ‘Unholy Beast’.  And in return, you can call me by my name.  Which, as you know, is Ichabod.”<br/><br/>More conscious of his companion’s difficulties than he had been last night, Ichabod attempted to forge a path over as smooth of ground as possible.  And, when that wasn’t possible, he warned Ruin about any roots or stones he might trip over -- although Ruin growled at him nearly every time.  After several hours, they’d covered an impressive distance, and Ichabod felt comfortable slowing their pace a little. He’d gotten a bit winded trying to stay ahead of the demon.  Besides, sleep and food seemed to have mellowed Ruin a little.  Ichabod hoped that it had also made him more chatty.  He’d never really met a demon before, and as usual, there was lots he wanted to know.<br/><br/>“So,” Ichabod began, snapping off a branch before it could whip back and hit Ruin in the face.  “How did you end up getting captured by the Duke?  He didn’t strike me as someone who could beat you in a fair fight.”