Tenk stood on the edge of his office shack, feeling the familiar weight return to his bones as the grace of the season passed, looking off over the stockyards to where the house with the windows with the red painted glass stood.
He went back inside as he felt the shack shudder as the elevator rose. It was Maggie, bringing a late dinner.
“how long do you think it will hold?” asked Tenk as she unpacked the basket.
“Ye don a good thing, ye did. I woulda never thought of using something so plain as that! Maybe ye are clever after all!”
Tenk smiled and poked listlessly at the food.
“Ye’ve stopped eating. Two days now,” said Maggie.
“mmm. I feel strange. Everything seems so heavy, so faraway. So dark.’
“Yer tired, ye are!”
“What?! I am not! I’ve never been!”
Maggie laughed at him then, shaking her head. “Ye hardly know yerself,Liyy! Spending yer whole life acting like you are one of then tall folk!”
Tenk scowled. “What of it? I’m still alive. More than I can say for my cousins. “
“I’ll just leave ye be and let you figure it out for yerself then. It’s what you do. “
The shack suddered as the elevator engaged to take Maggie back down.
Tenk tinkered with the insides of his clock for a while, wiping the teeth of the cogs and thking of nothing in particular. After a while he went down to Mr Cleanslate’s office. He found Cleanslate’s letterhead and wrote a quick note in his spidery handwriting:
Business in Falun. -T.
He folded the stationary neatly, and slid it under the stack of papers in Mr. Cleanslate’s inbox, where it was sure to be found… eventually.
He thought he heard a song on the wind He put on his heat, wrapped his muffler around his neck a few times, and headed for the forge. There he took down his uncle’s old walking stick from its hiding place above an archway. There, following the song, he headed for the palisade gate. He strolled into the wall, down into the cramped passages and forgotten storerooms, to one place in particular that he sudenly remembered.
The door was stiff, the hinges nearly frozen from disuse, but he pried it open enough slip inside. He yawned, finding a place for himself bhind some forgotten crates, and for the first time in his long life, laid himself down and fell into the deep, still, and unnatural sleep of his kind.
OOC: I’m either in Kenya or Zanzibar. Please contact Aeolus Cleanslate for general Babbage business, or Tesla Tripsa for land & meter issues until further notice. I do not expect to find machines modern enough to be able to get in world.