Arcaeus dreamt. Flashes of fire, smoke and wings. Rushing air. Roaring that fills the skies. Then the eyes, one blue, one brown with specks of green. Familiar, a ghost from his past.<br/><br/>Arcaeus wakes with a sweat.<span style="font-style: italic">Dragon</span>he knows now.<span style="font-style: italic">She's a dragon. Maybe. I need to study her. Last night it was dark and I was blinded by both my anger, and, more surprisingly, her.</span>he mulls around. He pulls a book off of his shelf, using his telekinesis. He flips through it, looking for some information, a rumor he heard about a century ago.<span style="font-style: italic">Nothing. I'm gonna need to go into town to meet a contact. Hmm is it worth it? Maybe I should just ask her first. She might be a little forthcoming after some rest and a full belly. Such a smooth, tight belly.</span>Arcaeus shook his head in frustration.<span style="font-style: italic">Why? Why do I keep thinking these things?</span>he thought to himself, irritated. He pulled on a pair of dyed black fur pants, and a dark tunic. He sees that it's raining lightly outside and grabs his black hooded cloak. And a spare for Janelle.<span style="font-style: italic">If she's even still here.</span><br/><br/>He steps outside and looks around, not seeing her, which isn't surprising. "Breakfast!" he bellows.