Ichabod’s anger gradually waned as they followed the road out of town.  For now, the cool night air felt refreshing, and even the occasional gust of wind seemed to scrape a bit more weariness from his body.   Travelling was what Ichabod loved most of all -- more than the card games, more than all his clever schemes gone horribly wrong.  Constantly distracted by distant bird calls, or the marvelously strange shapes of familiar objects distorted by fog, he found it impossible to hold onto his grudge against the demon.  Who could blame Ruin for hating the Duke?  Putting himself in Ruin’s place, Ichabod could only imagine how he’d feel after being enslaved, humiliated, and inappropriately groped.  Maybe he’d be pretty unreasonable too.<br/><br/>Soon after they left the road, Ichabod realized that Ruin wasn’t keeping pace as well as he should have been.  Glancing back over his shoulder, Ichabod saw the demon trip over an obvious rock, and he finally realized the significance of the cloth covering Ruin’s eyes.  The demon was blind.  Instantly, a wave of guilt washed over Ichabod.  He should have noticed sooner -- would have noticed sooner, if he hadn’t been obsessing over his own petty concerns.  Ichabod felt terrible for making the poor demon stumble along behind him.  Hoping to atone for his inconsideration, he stepped toward Ruin, intending to take the demon’s hand and help guide him.  But the low growl which issued from Ruin’s throat immediately ended that plan.  Clearly, the demon didn’t want any help.  And Ichabod, who certainly understood a thing or two about foolish pride, turned around and continued walking.<br/><br/>An hour passed without incident, other than the death of a tree that had unwisely placed itself in Ruin’s path.  There was something comic about the way he turned the former obstacle into splinters, but also something terribly tragic -- Ichabod felt a stab of pity as he watched the once mighty warrior, now reduced to shredding deer carcasses and shrubs.  Why did humans always do this?  Why did they take the things that awed them and beat them into submission until they became as mundane as a dammed river or the fire trapped at the tip of candlewick?<br/><br/>Once the tree had been thoroughly destroyed, they continued their journey.  However, the night’s chill no longer felt so refreshing.  Ichabod could see his breath, puffing briefly from between his lips before it was consumed by the fog.  Shivering, he pulled his coat more closely around his lanky body, and tried to generate heat by walking faster.  But nothing could stop the shivers which occasionally wracked him, or the painful tingling slowly working its way up from his fingertips.  Ichabod found himself craving the comfort of his sleeping roll.  Had they travelled far enough from the town yet?<br/><br/>Two tugs on his pack pulled Ichabod from his thoughts.  Turning, he saw Ruin making a strange face at him.  At first, Ichabod thought that the demon was sticking his tongue out in a childish fit of temper.  He was about to answer with an extended tongue of his own, when the truth struck him -- Ruin was asking to have the silence spell removed.  For a moment, Ichabod hesitated, remembering the note’s warning about song magick.  But Ruin hadn’t killed him when he’d had a chance.  Now that Ichabod had bound Ruin, it seemed even more unlikely the demon would try and do him any harm.<br/><br/>“Okay.  Umm…”  Nikolai tried to imagine what command might break the spell.  “I, your master, release you from your silence.  Speak when you desire.”<br/><br/>While Ichabod gazed at Ruin, waiting to see if his words had worked, he noticed the steam rising from Ruin’s skin.  And as usual, his curiosity completely overwhelmed what little remained of his good sense.  Reaching out, he placed one chilled hand against the demon’s chest, then murmured in wonder.  “You’re warm.”