The rain was not particularly heavy, but it did not show any signs of relenting even after two hours of pouring. It had certainly drenched Zach completely as he came walking from the other side of town. At first he had worried that the rain would make his injuries seem less severe, as it had washed away most of the blood. Thankfully, a few stains had already set into his clothing and he had some impressive bruises to boot. The attack would have left a human unconscious, but the force of their blows hadn't even manage to break any of his dense bones. He did have some strains though, and an impressive amount of cuts and bruises. It would be tedious, but he should be able to keep up a human healing factor throughout the healing process.

As he neared the church, he looked for the little building where he knew the priest would live. He hadn't even needed to ask about the man, as his name was on everyone's lips in the right areas of town. He seemed to be a proper do-gooder, which was what Zach was counting on to provide him the opening he needed. Sure, some narrow-minded people might think a bruised and bloody body would do nothing to seduce a target, but Zach knew to take his time. He only needed to make sure he got to stay with the priest, rather than be sent to some shelter where he couldn't work his magic on the man. Once he was in, wounds would heal, and from what he had heard this 'Kiel' was a sucker for a sob story.

He slumped over a little when he reached the door, and raised his hand to rap on the wood. By that time he didn't need to fake a wince of pain, as the long walk over hadn't done his ribs any good by the feel of it. He might be stronger than humans, but that didn't mean he couldn't feel pain. He would deal with it, though, especially if this ploy turned out to work...

The patter of rain on the roof brings a smile to Kiel's lips as he turns a page in his newest book. Propped up against his knees the hardcover's pages flicker slightly in the candlelight as he reads. His eyes dart across the page, fully captured but his latest read. Around him his small room if covered with books and papers, leaving only a few small paths to get around from one side to the other, and a final little path to the door. Spending most of his time either in church or out on the streets, Kiel has never felt the need to keep his room clean. The small side bedroom attached to his is mostly free of clutter, but a few stacks of books have found their way into the doorway, blocking it from being able to close.

As the rain continues he looks up from the book, his eyes trailing over to the window. With a sigh he notes that the rain has partially found it's way inside and the edge of his bed now has a fine mist on it. Tilting forward on to his knees, the bed creaking in protest to the sudden action, he reaches out and pulls the window completely shit, latching it's large old fashioned hook. Looking back to his book, now settled face down on the bed he lets out another sigh and saves his place before placing it on his nightstand atop an ever growing pile of books.

Standing the young priest starts shedding his layers to get ready for bed. Kiel has always enjoyed his life at the church. The simple life, the doing good, it all leaves him with a very content feeling every night. However, his mind shifts often to all the people he's unable to help. All the children still lost and in need out there. He bites his lip softly as he clears a chair to sit on so he can get his shoes off. Just over a week ago, he'd lost a young girl to an overdose. The teens that are constantly at his side when maneuvering the slums told him that they'd found her, and given her her last rights and the like. He had wanted to see her, but they had already taken her in to the police so they could give her a burial.

Stretching Kiel pulls off his top and is just about to grab his nightgown when a knock at his door causes him to freeze. 'No one visits at this hour. All the others are either asleep or working on tomorrow's sermon' A jolt goes through him. 'Maybe it's one of the kids' With that thought in mind he makes his way to the door and cracks it open slightly. The sight that greets him causes him to throw the door wide. “What?! Are you alright?!” He cries, reaching out to pull the young man inside. The patches of blood on his clothing make his stomach turn. He doesn't even seem to notice that he's getting soaked as he pulls the boy inside and kicks the door shut behind him. Guiding the boy over to the recently cleared off chair he encouraged him to sit while trying to get a look at the boy's wounds. “What happened? Who did this? Does it hurt? Where are you hurt?” The questions keep tumbling from his lips as heart beats loudly in his ears.

Zach was leaning heavily against the door frame when the priest opened the door, and the next moment he was stumbling inside, supported by the taller man. His eyes flicked briefly over the assorted books littering the floor, but most of his attention was on the man leading him across it.

"I... I'm sorry," he rasped, slightly exaggerating how difficult his ribs made it for him to talk. "I didn't know where else to go..." He winced as he sat down in the chair, hand coming up to clutch at his ribs. He could feel the priest turning his head this way and that to get a good look at the bruised littering his skin, and he made sure to gasp when a tender area was touched.

"There was... I was," he swallowed, as if he couldn't bring himself to say the words. "I did something wrong. I thought they were going to kill me and I didn't know where else to go," he choked up a little, voice breaking as he let tears spring to his eyes. "I heard that you are a good man, and I don't want to be... I didn't know where else to go," he repeated, softer this time.

His fingers move swiftly over the boy's body, desperate to assess his injuries quickly. There's a catch in the back of his own throat as the boy stumbles over his word, tears coming to his eyes. Kiel bites his lip and bites back a string of curses aimed at whoever hurt him. “It's alright, you're safe here.” he murmurs, his voice soft and soothing. “You don't have to be afraid. No one will hurt you here.” He stands up and coaxes the boy's arms over his head as he pulls off the kid's soaked top. He feels his stomach drop as he sees the fresh wounds on his now exposed torso. Noticing his own bare chest he reaches over to where his nightgown lay settled atop the books on his small table beside the chair before stepping across the room to grab a towel out of his closet.

Making his way back to the young man's side he place it gently atop his head and he moves his hand softly across the plush fabric in an attempt to dry the boy's hair. “Don't worry little one. I won't let anyone lay a hand on you again.” His voice is soft but fierce. 'I can't stand this. Why does stuff like this happen!?' Despite his inner turmoil his voice remains soft. Kneeling down in front of the kid he tugs the towel slightly so that it settles on the boy's shoulders.

“I'm going to put some tea on and get some hot water ready so I can clean up these wounds. Try and dry off a bit more while I get the stuff ready, kay?” His hands drop down to settle atop the boy's own and he flinches internally at just how cold they feel. He stands quickly and slides over to the thermostat. Cranking it up so that the heat kicks on he moves over to the hot dual plates on his table and plugs them in. Pulling out a pot and his kettle from beneath his little sink he fills them both with water and sets them to boil. All the while he keeps half an eye on the boy in case he needs something. While he waits for the water to boil he turns back to his closet and pulls out a pair of pants for the kid to change into once the wounds are treated.

Zach flinches when appropriate, but doesn't overdo it. While his perceived vulnerability will be his 'in', too much weakness will undoubtedly make him undesirable. He hisses slightly when his soaked top comes off, pulling slightly at some of the more open wounds and then he is back to watching intently as the priest flits around the room. The touch of the man is surprisingly soft, given the intent in his voice, but Zach does not like the sound of 'little one'. He has no intention of being seen as a young boy, at least not this time. After the priest settles the towel on his shoulders, he reaches out to grab his hand in a grip that is just strong enough to let him feel how strong he can be.

"Thank you," he says with a deep voice, catching the priest's eyes with his own, "I am in your debt." When the priest moved away again, he continues towelling himself off carefully. It felt good to be able to wipe the cold water away. He was more durable than humans and pretty good with pain, but he didn't much like the cold. He felt much more comfortable in the more southern climates of the human world, but this was the priest assigned to him.

He keeps a close eye on the priest as he busies himself with the stove, trying to figure out how he should approach from here. He definitely had the man's attention, but it seemed to come in the form of pity for now. Pity was a good start, but he would need to establish himself as strong from the beginning as well. He knew the kind of men that loved to prey on the weak, and this one wasn't one of them. What he needed was time to work him over, and for that he needed to be able to stay here. He wasn't above begging, of course, but it would work best if he could get the priest to make the offer instead.

"It has been a while since I've been this warm," he says thoughtfully in an attempt to strike up a conversation.

A twinge runs through his chest as the boy comments on being warm. A faint scowl furrows Kiel's brow as he tests the temp of the water in the pot. 'Being warm should be something everyone should have. It shouldn't be a luxury' It's nice an warm, almost hot, so he pulls it off the heat and nudges a place clear on the table with his elbow. Setting down the steaming pot he hangs the soft pants behind the boy on the back of the chair. He gives the young man a faint smile. “I turned up the heat so you shouldn't catch cold. But once I've treated these wounds, you should change out of those wet bottoms.” With that he ducks down under the table, rummaging through the piles of books. A faint crash followed by a yelp signifies that he's been attacked by a pile of books.

“Ah hah! Found it!” he calls out triumphantly as he crawls backwards out of the mess of dusty old tomes. With a grin he waves a small white box with a red cross on it back and forth a few times. After a moment a confused look crosses his face. “I just used it last week. . . How'd it end up down there I wonder. . . .” Shaking off his confusion he scoots over to his guest and settles down on his knees. As he sets to work washing and disinfecting the wounds he tries to imagine who's responsible for the boy's state.

'Most of my kids have stopped roughing people up, and Sander's gang have moved one town over' He glances over the boy's frame and tries to think of who could beat someone like that. 'He's not a stick like me, so he'd hold his own against most of the kids in the area. It must have been a group. But the only group around that attacks strangers is. . . .' His thoughts trail off as he realizes that he indeed does not recognize the person he's doctoring. Placing a lard patch of gauze over a large bruise on the boy's ribs, a split in the middle weeping blood slightly, he reaches over to the medical tape. “Here, can you hold this for me while I tape it. . . . .?” He lets the sentence trail off, giving the boy an opportunity to give up his name. A lot of street kids avoid telling the church their names because a lot of the more law abiding pastors will seek out their parents. In other words, the very people they are trying to avoid.

Zach hid a small smirk as the priest crawled around the messy house. He had expected at least a bit of a challenge from the reputation the man had in the village, but he doubted this priest could offer any kind of substantial resistance. He didn't seem completely stupid though, he had to admit when he noticed the looks the man was giving him as he patched him up. It was a good thing he'd spent some time building a bit of a background in the town, even if it was only a few weeks old. There were quite a few people coming in from the big cities, even if a lot of them only passed through. Even for a human, it would not be inconceivable to have no past.

When the priest asked for his name, he pretended to think for a while, before averting his eyes and summoning a light blush to his cheeks. "My name is Zach..." he held on to the gauze as the other taped, and followed any other orders as well. "I'm sorry to come here at this hour of night. My apologies if I woke you up, Kiel." He looked up with a start, dark eyes seeking out the priest's paler ones. "Er... I meant Father, of course..."

Finishing up with the large bruise Kiel looks up with a faint smile. 'I'm glad he feels safe enough to tell me his name, or at least a name' He pauses slightly as he notices the boy's flushed cheeks but looks away quickly with a cough when Zach uses his first name so openly. 'Oh my. Seems he's done more than hear about me' Standing he turn to the young man and smiles down at him as he corrects himself. “It's alright little one. Kiel, Father, or Father Kiel are all just fine.” He chuckles slightly. “A lot of the kids call me just Kiel, though I ask that they call me at least Father Kiel when around the other clergymen.” Reaching out he pats the boy on the head affectionately, smiling warmly.

“You're hair's still a little damp.” Kiel murmurs, stepping close. Pulling the towel back up he does his best to dry the dark shaggy mop without aggravating any injuries. His fingers move slowly and gently, pressing the soft fabric close to the scalp to get the moisture hidden near the roots. The dry air for the heating grate travels from it's slot on the floor up around the table to the ceiling, creating a kind of hot down draft above the chair. Kiel can feel his body warming up under the direct heat and after a minute he drops the towel back around Zach's neck and steps back. “There you go, that should be good.” Gesturing to the pants on the back of the chair he adds, “And as soon as you slip into those you should be able to dry off the rest of the way.”

Stepping further back he looks around the room, seemingly to avert his gaze from the boy. 'From what he said earlier, he most likely doesn't have a crash pad. I should get the spare room ready' He glances at Zach before moving over to the doorway to the spar room. Placing his hands on either side of the door frame his shoulders slump at the amount of dust coating a few places in the room. Most importantly, the bed itself. Turning his head slightly so the youth can hear him better he says, “This is the spare room. I'd never put anyone out in this weather, and until we find out who attacked you the slums are not safe.” He turns back to the dusty bed and sighs. “It isn't much, and there's enough dust in here to gag a cockroach. . . .” He turns his head again, “But at least it's warm, and dry.” He lets out a little laugh. “Just head in here when you're done changing and I can take care of the rest of your wounds.”

With that he wanders into the room, moving aside a few stacks of books so that the path to the bed and dresser are clear. Pulling open a few dresser drawers he smiles with relief that the stock of spare clothes is still in place. Over the years Kiel has helped many teens and young adults in need, and part of that has always been providing basic necessities. Most of the kids he's dealt with lately haven't needed clothes, so he has had no need to check his stock. Shifting through the selection of t-shirts, jeans, long sleeves, and sweat pants he nods sharply in approval. “Looks like a good selection.” He murmurs, moving over to the bed. 'I've only had a few kids stay here before, and most were runaways wanting to go home. Last one wanted to join the clergy and now serves under Father Wraith. That was. . . . .Quite a while ago' Picking up the pillow he coughs slightly as he beats off some of the dust with his free hand. 'But even so, I shouldn't have let it get this bad. . .' With a sigh he sets the pillow aside and starts beating the bed itself, shaking out the covers.

Zack frowned internally at 'little one', but let it slide for now. He might have gone for an older look, if he hadn't felt he needed to work on the priest for a longer period. He doubted someone much older would be invited to stay there though, so he needed to look at least plausibly young. It didn't matter. Once he started healing, there would be enough time to let it sink in he wasn't a 'little one'.

When the priest worked on drying his hair, Zack subtly leaned into the touch. His small sigh when the heat started to seep through didn't have to be an act. After several weeks worth of cold nights in damp places, it was a joy to be in a warm place again. He didn't know how all those humans living on the streets dealt with it. Poorly, he imagined. When the priest stepped away, he took the dry clothes with a smile and a muttered 'thank you'. He longed to finally feel dry again, so he wasted no time peeling off his soggy pants and under pants. It would be out of character to check if he was watching, so he kept his attention on getting dressed, making sure to move slowly as if his wounds were actually bothering him.

Afterwards, he hung his wet clothes out over the back of the chair to dry before following the priest into the spare room. "You are very kind," he said quietly, letting a little disbelief seep into the tone. "Er.. I mean, not that I thought you wouldn't be," he followed, eyes wide. "The others said you were kind. I just... I'm not really used to it I guess." He looked the priest in the eye for just a second too long, before averting his eyes with a small blush. "The room is great, I'll make sure to keep it tidy. Er..." He looked around at the books littering the floor. "I won't move anything," he eventually settled on.

A warm smile spreads across the priest's lips as the boy stumbles over his words. 'He's so awkward. It's rather cute.' He holds back a laugh as he finishes shaking out the sheets and turns to look at the boy. His words die in his throat as he meet's the young man's eye. His smile wavers ever so slightly as they gaze at one another. 'There's something odd about this child. Those eyes. . . . .They look . . . . .Old somehow' His smile returns just before the boy looks away and he silently chides himself for doubting the young man. 'Of course he seems older than he is. Most street kids grow up far too quickly' Shaking his head he almost misses what Zach says about the room. However when what he says registers he chuckles lightly and pats the boy on the arm.

“It's alright. The books aren't suppose to be in here anyways. I'll get them moved out tomorrow.” He squeezes the others arm before leaning in to give him a brief hug. “Don't worry about anything. Just get some rest.” He murmurs quietly before pulling back with a final squeeze if his hand. Reaching up he ruffles the boy's hair and steps past him towards the door. Pausing at the doorway ha carefully pushes a few stacks aside so that he can pull the door closed behind him. Just before the door shuts he reaches in and switches the light off.

'That poor kid. I have to go out tomorrow and figure out what happened to him' Kiel lets out a sigh and turns off the light in the main room before wandering over to his bed with practiced dodging moves. 'It doesn't seem like he'll want to go back to his parents. He may even be old enough to live on his own' Pulling up his gown a but he slides out of his pants and hangs them off the end of his bed. With another sigh he climbs slowly into bed, sitting up so he can look out the window. 'I wish this world would just come to it's senses. Stuff like this is pointless. The children are our future, and as long as we keep setting them up to fail, the cycle will repeat forever, until the world collapses in on itself' Stretching his shoulders carefully he slides down slowly until he's settled comfortable beneath the covers. Despite the now hot atmosphere in his room, he curls up under his sheets and blankets, and within moments, passes into the dream world.

Zach let out a contented sigh as he made himself comfortable on the bed. Even with the lights off, he could see the room clear as day, albeit with muted colours. It was nothing impressive, but he was warmer and drier than he'd been in been in the past couple of weeks. More importantly: he was in. Impressed with how smooth everything had gone, he couldn't quite help a small smile.

'Still, it won't do to get overconfident,' he told himself. 'This priest is nothing like my earlier marks. They wanted it.' Hell, a couple of them had even approached him before he'd had a chance to make a move. Nothing like that would happen here. No, with this mortal he would have to keep pushing every step along the way. 'Why do these mortals insist on making things difficult for themselves anyway,' he wondered, not for the first time. 'They must really be committed to leeching the pleasure from the world if they would swear themselves to chastity...' While he knew that mortals did not feed on desire as he did, his experience had shown that they could get quite a bit of pleasure from the act and everything around it. He didn't see why anyone would want to deny themselves that, but then he wasn't really the type to deny himself anything either.

'That should be about enough time for him to fall asleep,' he thought after a while. He got up from his comfortable spot on the bed and closed his eyes. With a thought he felt himself slip into the space between worlds, and when he opened his eyes they were a solid black. To him, it suddenly seemed as if everything took on a slightly fuzzy edge. Objects were less solid to him, and if he stepped carefully he could even move through them. It was an easy way to get around in the physical world, but mortals could both him and his true nature in this state.

At the moment he was looking for the tell-tale tears that signalled a mortal's passage into the dream world. It was second nature for him to walk amongst dreams, but once he was on that plane it was virtually impossible to find the specific mortal. Which was why he wasn't able to peek into the priest's mind before. With a physical proximity to the body of the dreamer, however, it was the simplest thing imaginable to slip into their dream pocket.

Zack smiled when he saw a shimmering thread come from the direction where the priest was sleeping. Perfect. He didn't seem to have up any wards, which meant he could slip in without notice. He moved quickly, stepping through the connection before it could disperse. For now he would stay in the background and see what he could learn from the mortal's dreams. If he was lucky, there would be a point where he could step in without it feeling unnatural to the priest's subconscious mind...

The colours in the dream were vivid, but sounds and scents were muted. It always took him a bit off guard how dull his senses felt in the dreamscape. But all that existed in here came from a human mind, and their senses were not as good as his own. It meant there was nothing for him to pick up on beyond the human range, but it also gave incubi like himself a valuable insight into the capabilities of humans. Of all demons, his kind were most at home in dreams, which made their input valuable to the higher-ups.

Once the priest's world came into focus around, it took Zach a while to figure out where the priest was in the mass of green. By that time the scene had already changed, but it didn't matter. When left on their own, dreams were usually fragmented and disjointed. Interacting with the dreamers usually had a stabilising effect, but thankfully it didn't really seem to carry over into the waking world too much. Unless he forced something really out of character, it took a lot of training to be able to recognise involvement in a dream. When the mass of bodies presented itself, Zach decided to just jump in. All he got from the priest so far fas the feeling of being lost, and that wasn't going to help him any. He closed his eyes and let himself be pulled into the narrative of the dream.

~He was moving effortlessly through the press of bodies, Kiel's presence a beacon in the less-than-real world around him. He let the priest's unconscious come up with his attire, but made sure that his body was unharmed in the dream world. He kept a slightly alarmed look on his face and made sure the priest saw him several times before he finally bumped into him. His hands came up to the human's arms to steady himself and he let his face break out in a relieved smile.

"Thank you," he said in an echo of their earlier conversation. He muted the sounds and sights of the dance floor, leaving room for the priest's subconscious to fill it in with a different location. He wasn't planning on pushing anything just yet, as he first needed to find out what his target was like in the first place.~

~The quavering of the boy's voice causes his heart to sink. “Yes.” He murmurs at the boy's question. When the boy speaks again a shot of pain fires through his chest and his face contorts slightly in pain. Around them the beat of the rain on the gazebo grows louder and louder. He tries to reassure the boy, but his voice is gone. Around him the garden fades, and in it's place cold stone and cement. The boy slips from beneath his fingers and seems to fade from his eyes. All he can see is coldness, the dampness, he's all alone. He can hear his voice again but all it does is cry out to the night. The darkness closes in, the gray sky fading from view, the world escaping his sight. He falls to his knees, his gaze dropping to the ground beneath hm. So cold, lifeless, the icy rain pools around his legs and his eyes open wide in horror as a faint stream of red joins the clear waters around him~

With a sharp gasp Kiel sits up, his heart racing in his chest. Gasping for breath over and over his hand comes to his chest and he squeezes out tears as he clamps his eyes shut. The images fade quickly from his mind and after a moment the memory of them fades too. Again the rain outside brings him peace rather than terror and he lets out a very wet sounding chuckle through the tears. “I really wish I knew what this meant.” He mutters to the empty room. Glancing at the clock he lets out a long sigh. “Little early, but I guess it's close enough.” The sound if the rain is much fainter than it was when he went to bed, signifying that it may be letting up soon. Tossing the covers aside the priest stretches and throws his legs over the side with a grunt. Many mornings have for him like this over the years. It use to happen a lot more when he was younger. He would wake early, sobbing into the darkness over some pain that soon leaves him with this feeling. Somewhere deep inside, he can't quite figure out where, is the answer to his questions.

Shaking his head he slips out of bed and begins getting dressed. Starting some tea he pulls out a frying pan and some pancake mix that he'd prepared the night before. Shaking the bottle he looks at the amount and nods. “Should be enough for both of us. Just in case I'll make extra eggs.” Use to being alone Kiel doesn't think twice about talking to himself with the boy in the next room. Shifting some books aside he opens his mini refrigerator and pulls out half a dozen eggs for breakfast along with some cheese to melt into them. Tucking the cheese in the crook of his arm he grabs a plate of bacon strips before closing the door and setting it all out on the table next to the frying pan. Settling the bacon in the pan he smiles as it begins to sizzle. The smell permeates the entire house as he hums happily and continues to cook breakfast.

Zach watched dispassionately as the dream fell apart. The priest seemed to have metaphorical demons to deal with, but that was of no concern to him. Anything that would not directly contribute to his task was by definition uninteresting. Still, he'd found out some useful information. The priest obviously felt strongly about keeping him safe, which was good. Now he needed to make the priest like him, and after that desire him. Normally desire should be enough, but he would probably need to have some incentive to break his vows. Besides, Zach didn't just want to prove himself: he wanted to seriously impress someone higher on the food chain. And what better way to prove that he could manipulate than to have an enemy soldier fall for him?

He stepped back into the physical world, lounging on his bed as he heard the priest move around in the next room. The damnable rain was still falling out of the sky, but it was a lot less horrible with a roof over your head. He could even see how the sound might be calming, if he hadn't had the memories of cold dampness to ruin it. He was just trying to figure out how long he should stay 'asleep' for, when the scent of bacon sneaked in through the door. He didn't need to eat in quite the same way as mortals did, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate bacon. When he opened the door, he was rubbing his eyes with a sleepy look on his face. His cuts and bruises were still nicely in place, but they didn't seem to hurt him as much.

"Who were you talking to?" he asked with a small yawn. "Er, I mean, good morning," he added sheepishly.

The bacon is done rather quickly and after draining out most of the grease into a grease container h begins preparing the eggs. 'I can't do fancy stuff, but I'm glad Mrs.. Henasi showed me this trick with using bacon grease instead of butter for the eggs. Saves me a bit of money' As he cracks the first egg into the bowl the sound of a door opening catches his attention. As the boy steps into the main room Kiel winces inside at the sight of his still very vibrant injuries. 'I'm so glad they don't seem to hurt as much as they did last night' He suppresses a chuckle as the boy covers his inquiry with a pilot greeting. “Good morning to you too, I see you're feeling better.” Plopping the last egg in the bowel he picks the bowl up and begins whisking them with a fork. “And don't worry, I don't mind you asking questions.” He moves slightly closer to the boy, still whisking. His eyes skate over the injuries, taking a visual assessment.

“In truth the answer is rather simple.” Finishing his assessment he drops the fork so it sets against the side of the bowl and uses his free hand to check the boy's bandages. 'They seem to be holding up, but I should change them later' His hands brush gently over the wounds that required no bandaging and his eyes grow heavy with sympathy again. “See, I spend so much time here in my home alone that I often speak to myself aloud just to break the silence.” After the examination his picks up the fork again and finishes whipping the eggs. “I don't have anything for music, so it gets rather quiet here.” Turning back to the hot plate he pours the eggs into the still warm pan and begins cooking the eggs. Bits of bacon blend into the yellow and Kiel slowly adds the cheese so it will melt into the eggs.

Glancing over at the boy ha smiles. “I've only got one hot plate so we have to do this in stages. The bacon is done, have as much as you like, and the tea should be done,” just then the kettle begins whistling gently. Kiel chuckles. “Right now!” Keeping the eggs moving with one hand he takes the tea off the burner and sets it on a hot pad beside stack of books and a teacup. “You can grab a cup out of that cabinet over there.” He says, pointing over his shoulder with his chin as he sets a second frying pan on the stove. “The sugar is in there too, and cream if you want some is in the little fridge here.” Reaching out he taps the refrigerator with his right foot while he finishes with the eggs, piling them onto a ready plate. Setting it by the bacon he pokes a fork into it. “Eat as much as you like.” he says, his grin wide as he sets into making the pancakes.

Zach keeps still when the priest steps in to inspect his injuries, glancing at the man's face through his thick eyelashes. He makes sure to wince ever so slightly when his more colourful bruises are touched, but in reality the injuries are mostly cosmetic by now. Since he doesn't have the experience to mimic a broken bone or something similar, he would have to rely on a sympathy ploy to spend some more time with the priest, rather than just physical reasons. Once he plays up the fear of running into his attackers again, he should be all right.

"I don't really mind the silence," he says as he goes over to the cupboard to grab a cup. "It's always noisy on the streets. It's... nice to be able to hear yourself think," he casts his eyes down shyly as he seats himself at the small table. He grabs the fork, piles some bacon and eggs on it, then pauses when it's halfway to his mouth.

"Um... Should we say grace or something? I mean, since you're a priest and all..." In truth, a blessing would likely spoil the food for his palate, but he has to keep up the image of a timid youngster for a while longer. He'll be able to open up a little once the priest starts making an effort to coax him out of his shell.

With a chuckle Kiel pours the first pancake on to the the freshly melted butter. “Yes, I can see how the quiet is comforting. After being out on the streets all day, I always get to come back to my nice quiet house. I guess I've never had to deal with the noise too long, heh.” The butter sizzles as he flips the pancake and glances over at the boy as he stabs up some bacon and eggs. 'He seems to be feeling better today. I'm glad. He'll have to stay here until I find out who has it out for him. I hope he's not too opposed to being cooped up in this little house. I suppose he can explore the grounds a bit, but he should be careful not to be in the front where he could be spotted from the streets' Kiel is brought out of his musing as he notices the boy is staring at him.

After a moment the question registers and he chuckles again. “Do what feels right to you. Just because I'm a priest doesn't mean I think everyone needs to think like I do. I know a lot of youths who have lost their faith, or never had any, but I will help them all the same.” With that he scoops up the pancake and settles it on a separate plate. Next to the plate is a bottle of maple syrup which he taps with the spatula. “Syrup for fee use.” he says happily, glad that he thought to get a new bottle recently. As he pours the next cake he glances over at Zach. 'I think it's a little too soon to ask about his home life, but maybe I can get some clues to where to start looking' Looking back to his cooking he asks, “So, Zach, where did you take to bedding down when you got to town. I've been on the streets long enough to know all the locals. I hope you didn't have to travel too far.” He winces slightly at his slip-up and hopes the boy doesn't see his statement as a way to fish for information he wasn't ready to give yet.