Put the Past Away

He held his hands up again as the stranger got closer, kneeling before him, as if he could protect himself from a man nearly double his size. He didn't know what he expected himself to do even if he did lay hands on him- he had sworn to never use his magic again. To never hurt anyone again.

There was no hiding the shake to his hands, or the way he flinched when Malmr spoke again, offering a clean cloth and his name. Isle turned his gaze to his outstretched offering, considering it with a suspicious narrow of his brow. And quickly, he took it, swiping with a well-practiced speed like a viper strike, in hopes that it wasn't a trick to offer his arm for capture.

Isn't that what he had wanted, though? To be captured? It seemed as though his survival instincts overrode his morals.

He eyed Malmr silently with a squint of his burning eyes as he wiped the grime from his face and his hands, the cloth clean and soft against his skin. He almost sighed, having forgotten what a clean cloth's touch felt like. It even smelt good. Well, before he dirtied it.

The giant promised not to hurt him, and Isle skeptically believed him. He'd had the chance to do so already, and it was clear that the judgemental street goers were not going to save him if something did happen. So, he attempted a smile in response, taking the cloth and wrapping it around his hands. His smile only fell when he had to tear it in half, hoping the man would understand.

"Me too." He said quietly with a sniffle, stretching his fingers against their new bounds as if to prove his point. Not that Malmr knew the extent of his powers; if he had, would he still be helping him? His breath hitched at the thought, and he still tucked his hands into the damp sleeves of his coat, just in case, his thumbs poking through worn holes.

Isle perked momentarily at the mention of eating, his stomach clenching as if it had heard it too. Hungry? He was starving. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had something to eat that wasn't scraps, and the offer to get a meal made him nod quickly in an eager response. And though he still shook, he pulled himself to his feet when the other mage did, playing with the cuffs of his sleeves between his fingers. A wave of dizziness washed over him, but he steadied himself against the side of a cart. He really did need to eat.

Name?

He hesitated, a brief frown pulling at his lips as he looked anywhere but at the man before him.

"Isle." He said in a tense breath, tapping his chest with his thumb as if it wasn't obvious that he was speaking about himself. He then glanced up and pointed in the direction he had come. He remembered peering in through a window at a small shop and seeing pies on the counter. Other customers had been eating sandwiches and drinking coffee.

But then, he paused, looking away again as he shuffled his hands against each other. “I don't have...” His brow pinched, biting his lip as he glared at the street as if it could tell him the words he needed. “...coins.”