As he was standing there, staring inside through the glass door, he watched as Emory turned to look at him, and she finally realized that he hadn't followed her into the building. Prometheus didn't know why, but for some reason, the place gave him strange vibes, a disturbing energy that didn't quite feel right to what he was used to. And to be honest, Prometheus had been through a lot, and most of the things he'd done, many would not even describe as 'normal'. So for him to get a prickling on the back of his neck, hairs rising, was not a good sign. Though of course, he doesn't say any of this out loud, not to Emory, not to himself, not to anyone.<br/><br/>When she opened the door to come back outside to where he was, Prometheus takes a cautious step backward, just one, but enough to put space between himself and the open doorway. However, it does not stay open for long as Emory allows it to close behind her, as she stepped closer to him. He knew...or rather felt...that she could tell something was off with him. Or at least that's what he hoped. He didn't know why he would hope something like that of a stranger, but it was there. Maybe it was a small fact that it was she who had found him? Or had let him sleep in her house? Or maybe that she brought him to his swords? That she could understand him, at least only a little bit? Or maybe it was all of the above. Who knew? But as he looked at her, he nodded his head when she asked if he was alright. However...no...he wasn't alright. But he doesn't tell her that.<br/><br/>He didn't know why, but when she held out her hand to him, offering it in such a kind, gentle way for him to take, his automatically reached out to her, his extremely warm palms and fingers coming into contact with hers. Even as he'd done this, it was a shock when their skin came into contact, and after a second he let go of her hand, letting his arm fall to his side. However, he followed her into the building, albeit rather grudgingly, glancing left and right in a suspicious manner, as if suspecting something was about to jump out at him at any moment. Yes...he wanted his swords. But he wasn't asking for trouble. And he felt that was what he was going to end up with if he stayed here for much longer.<br/><br/>Prometheus ignores the conversation that Emory and the guard were having because of course, he had no idea what the heck they spoke of. From the looks of it, Emory and this man had some sort of history, good or bad was not quite clear to Prometheus, as he watched the exchange from the corner of his eye. When he was addressed, at least that's how it felt to Prometheus, he could only stare at the guard, not sure how to respond or react to whatever he'd just been told, or asked, or whatever it was. It seemed that he wasn't needed to respond, as Emory then spoke up for him, the only thing he knew was when she said his name. He looks to her, almost as if waiting for her to say something, but she doesn't, instead, continues to conversate with the guard.<br/><br/>When it was obvious that he really wasn't needed in this little talking match, Prometheus let his eyes wander, turning his head this way and that, glancing up the hall that headed away from the front door, then through the glass window that the guard was standing behind, tilting his head slightly at what he saw. So many of the weird rectangle flat boxes and a few white ones that looked a bit old stood here and there on desks or mounted on the walls. Images flashed in small frames, switching every so often to a different scene. Prometheus was amazed at what he was seeing, he'd never seen something like this before. It was almost like a scrying well or a seeing mirror...but different at the same time.<br/><br/>His attention was turned from the strange visions to something flashing in the corner of his eye. Without turning his head, his eyes flick to the side, narrowed, brows furrowed. Taking a breath, he closes his eyes for a moment, before focusing his attention forward again, watching as the guard finally decided to give into whatever Emory had convinced him with, going to a large metal box thing, unlocking it with a key and pulling his swords, along with the scabbards and the belt that went with them. Relief flooded through Prometheus, and it definitely showed on his face, sighing deeply as his weapons were brought to the window and handed to Emory.<br/><br/>When the man turned to him, giving him a smile, the only reaction that Prometheus had time to give was a quick bow, and in a rough voice, obvious that this was the first time trying to say it, he spoke two words. "Thank...you." He wasn't able to say more, due to the fact that Emory grabbed his hand, and pulled him from the office. As they left, he picked up shadowed movement again, and this time he turned his head to look, but of course didn't see anything again. What was going on? He was sure...more than sure...that that was...Shaking his head, he takes a deep breath. No, that couldn't be right. They were supposed to be extinct. Just like his own kind. Like himself. Then again...he was still alive...so maybe...<br/><br/>He didn't want to think of it any longer, so was relieved when they had gotten outside. They came to a stop, and his hand was released from her grip, the warmth fading away from his fingertips, or rather from hers, as his body temperature was warmer than hers. He looked to her, gratitude in his eyes when he took his swords from her, pulling at the handle of one, sliding it out of the scabbard slightly so that the perfect silver blade glinted in the sunlight, giving the reddish tinted weapon a glow. It didn't look to be damaged, so there was that on a good note. Then again...it was near damn impossible to damage an Elvish blade, let alone destroy it. Only Elven weapons could harm other Elven weapons, and Prometheus was pretty sure that nobody in this world...or...place, had anything of the sort.<br/><br/>Turning his eyes from the blade as he places it back into the scabbard once more, he looks to Emory. A small smile played on his lips as he gazed at her, and after a moment he does like before with the guard. He bows his head a bit and then looks into her eyes. "Thank you." His heart swayed, ever so slightly for this human. She was proving to be...at least a little more trustworthy than all the rest. She'd gotten him his swords back, and that was definitely something.<br/><br/>Even though he wanted to put his swords back in their proper place on his hip, he was pretty sure that it would just bring more unwanted attention to himself, so he just held them in his arms, for the time being, his grip firm. He was not about to lose them again so soon after finally getting them back. However, he was sure that they should probably move away from this building, whatever it was... "Where to go now?" He says, trying to not speak his usual Elvish, not wanting people to stare. It was hard, speaking this weird language of Emory's, but it was a good thing that Prometheus was quick on the uptake and a fast learner. He looked at her, wondering what she had in mind for where they were to go next. Back to her place? Then again, he felt a strong urge to go back to where he'd first felt consciousness, when all he could feel was the wind in his hair, and see the sky above him. He knew he'd been falling, but by the time he'd reached land he had been unconscious again.