<table width="100%"><tr><td style="vertical-align: top; width:50%; padding-right:10px;"><span style="color: #E6E9FD"><span style="font-family: Nyala;"><span style="font-size: 120%; line-height: 116%;">Was she saying he didn't have creativity? Was she really telling him he's not creative? Does she have any idea how hard it was to live as a gypsy? Did she understand what that represented? Gypsies in these parts lived off of scraps. They had bad reputations for stealing children and burning house, all of which are untrue. The couldn't get a job because no one will take them, they can't get a house because no one will sell them one, and they have nothing to make their way. He had to be creative to simply survive. <br/><br/>They didn't get to have nice, supporting beds in a square room. They got to sleep on cloth on the ground and use each other as pillows. They didn't have a stove and shelves to cook. They have an open fire, which they have to stop every meal to make, and sticks. They didn't get to be stuck up snobs who thought they couldn't know all about someone because of one dumb question. They had to laugh and sing. If they didn't, they all would have perished long ago from sorrow and grief. <br/><br/>She had no right to say that he couldn't be creative. He has repaired broken wheels with a rock and a tree branch. He's used a fork to repair clothing, he's used spoons to dig a fire pit and to cook food one spoon full at a time. He knew his capabilities, and being creative with what he had was all that he had. And there was no way in hell that she was going to take that away from him. <br/><br/>"Creativity shouldn't be spent on things that don't need it. Ma'am." His face was plain this time, brown eyes fixed onto her tired, exhausted face. His voice didn't possess the same musical tone to it as before. And with that he took his room key and left. <br/><br/>The woman who was beside him blinked at the two, looking uncomfortable in her current position. However, she didn't comment on the -what she would have called- argument and simply took her key, brushing her red hair out of her face. "Thank you." She made her way to the Inn keeper and then went to her room. <br/><br/>Yeeru tucked his thumbs into his pockets, watching the gypsies finish gathering their water in bowls, cups, and jars. They all started to pack onto the yellow wagon, however, the man from before stopped by Yeeru, questioning,"What's the matter?" <br/><br/>Yeeru shook his head,"Nothing. It's just I have to stay here for a while." <br/><br/>"Oh, do ya?" The man folded his arms on top of his large belly,"For that Dragon school of your's, hm?" Yeeru simply nodded up to him. "Well alright." He turned and went inside the caravan. However, a few moments later, he squeezed his way out, holding a small, grey bird with a green chest in his hands. It's head was covered in a small brown bag, though it's head still turned to the sides on occasions. "Just remember to write."<br/><br/>Yeeru laughed,"You don't even known how long I'll be gone."<br/><br/>"I'mma going to say 10 years?" <br/><br/></span></span></span></td><td style="vertical-align: top; width:50%; padding-left:10px;"><span style="color: #E6E9FD"><span style="font-family: Nyala;"><span style="font-size: 120%; line-height: 116%;">"What are you talking about?" Yeeru looked at him confused. <br/><br/>"There's a poster explaining all about it." He snickered hysterically and Yeeru simply rolled his eyes with the realization. He placed his hands under the Pigeon and held it so it couldn't fly away. " I'll write as often as a I can." <br/><br/>"Same here." The pair smiled at one another fondly, but the older man decided to break it. He patted his shoulder and turned to head back, being the only one left outside. He waved, as he boarded the outside seat, and with a flick of the reins, the donkey patted it's way along the road. "Be safe there, Yeeru!" <br/><br/>"I will!" He waved as they passed and went on their own journey. The place got significantly quieter after their leave. The Inn went back to it's bird cherping self and he sighed, looking down at the Pigeon. Hopefully it wouldn't fly to someone else's house like the last one did. Got itself killed that way. <br/><br/>The younger girl from inside had joined him outside and asked him several questions, all of which took him time to process. He wasn't familiar with the accent and he had to piece the words together to understand her. So he answered one at a time, starting with his father. "No." He smiled down at her. <br/><br/>Yeeru didn't know where his parents were currently. He knew they were alive somewhere, and usually nearby too because they often visit Algernon, however, he hadn't seen them in years. They never spoke to him in person, unlike Algernon, but they wrote letters and sent gifts and such. But no, Algernon wasn't his father. But he might as well be it. He looked after Yeeru as if he was his son, as he did with everyone in their troupe, but in the end, he knew he couldn't control Yeeru or where he went. There have been many occasions where Yeeru left for a week or a few months and then found his way back, usually with various things thy needed or just knew knowledge. So he never protested against him leaving. So he was practically his father. And very bad at it too.<br/><br/> The next question was who was the other woman. "Don't know." He shrugged, smiling down at her again. She was a very fine woman, sure, but Yeeru didn't like to focus on matters such as that. Algernon did, however, and always tried to get him to do such. But it just wasn't important to him. <br/><br/>The last one took him a second to think about. As much as he wanted to say he was here to piss that snob nose woman off, he couldn't say that because it wasn't entirely true. After moving his lips and eyebrows in thought for a bit, he looked back down at her,"I guess I'm here to find out." Looking down at the Pigeon, he shrugged,"I'm going to head to my room. Stop by if you want." He nodded to the teen and headed inside. <br/><br/>Before going in, he tucked the small bird under his vest on the opposite side as the lady would be, so that way should couldn't see it. He walked casually through the Inn, and if he wasn't interrupted, he would go up to his room and set his pigeon on his bed. He had lots of strings on his wrists which he had tied on as bracelets, so he simply took one off, tied an end around the Pigeons foot and one around the knob of the dresser that came with the room. "Don't want you flying away."</span></span></span></td></tr></table>