Jewel-of-Northwood set off down the stairs, and after allowing himself one final moment to take in that magnificent study, Ven followed, teacup still in hand. He paused as they reached the landing. "Ah...I'll be but a moment," he muttered sheepishly, and hurried into the man's kitchen to set the cup on the counter there. He knew it was likely a rude thing to do, but...he thought it would be ruder still not to at least try to clean up after himself. He returned to the foyer and shot an embarrassed glance at the healer before going through the habitual motions of hiding his face.
But they did not go out the front. Instead, Mr. Jewel led him to the back of the house, and through another door, and out into his garden. Well, Ven thought. That answers one question. He wondered if this strange high-born healer did not have enough sway to talk him out the front gates. Whatever was happening, Mr. Jewel intended to keep it a secret. Though at the moment, the man seemed rather more preoccupied with the very solid wall before him.
"Do you...need me to climb? I can try to climb," Ven murmured. Mr. Jewel did not answer, and instead spoke to the wall itself. His voice was strange as he said it. There was a moment where the two of them stood in rain-drenched silence and stared at the place that he had touched. Then, to Ven's astonishment, just as he opened his mouth to fill that silence, the wall gave way. A gaping maw of brick and mortar and vine had opened, and beyond lay the deep, dark woods. Ven stared at it, jaw wagging in wordless amazement beneath his mask. Before he could ask, the man spoke up.
"I am choosing to trust you, Mr Ven," said Jewel-of-Northwood. "There is an outcrop, just a small distance straight ahead, that will provide shelter from the rain. Please, go there, give the clearing your name and mine, and I will find you again once I've finished preparations."
"I...yes." Ven stood a little straighter, eyes glittering beneath his hood. "I will not betray it." He frowned as the instructions caught up with him. "My name and yours? I...see." He nodded. "I shall endeavor to do whatever it is correctly, though I am not a man of your talents."
He started towards the hole in the wall and set a hand on the jagged edge of the brick. He stopped. The man should know. It would not do to hide things. "Mr. Jewel," he added, and he could not keep the acerbic self-disgust from tainting his tone. "I must hunt soon. If you arrive and cannot find me...I shall return to that place as soon as I can. I give you my word." With that, he disappeared through the hole and into the black of night.
The dark made travel painfully slow. By what little moonlight filtered through the clouds, he could just make out the trunks of the trees before him. He was miserable again, and his only consolation was that the demon had finally stopped rattling to feast on nearby prey. Still, it was not even an hour before his path widened and he stumbled upon the clearing that Mr. Jewel had spoken of. Beyond it, barely visible in the night, an outcropping of boulders made for a sorry little shelter. "Mm," Ven opined. It was not the worst place he had had to wait out a storm, but...
He sighed and cleared his throat. "Avendego-i-Pereten and Jewel-of-Northwood," he announced. Then he stood and waited. And waited still. Nothing happened. He began to feel like quite the fool. "Avendego-i-Pereten and Jewel-of-Northwood," he said again, louder this time. Again, nothing. "Hmmmh," he grumbled. The outcropping was beginning to seem more inviting the longer he stood shivering in the rain. Finally, he gave up, and marched towards that gap in the rocks.
He found it dry enough, though he thought it could use a nice, warm fire. Ven tore his mask down and patted around, thinking that perhaps these folk left emergency caches, but found nothing. He sighed and looked back. He did not want to be in the rain any longer, but...he should hunt. And gather firewood, too, if he could find any dry enough. He fumbled with his belt buckle, slid the belt bag off, and set it squarely in the center of the shelter. Then, reluctantly, he started towards the clearing again.
The forest made for a ripe hunting ground, and Ven made quick work of sating the horrid thing within him. The process was revolting. It never got any easier. It would be one thing if he hunted as a living man would, and brought back food for his village. This...this was ugly. Unnatural. By the time he made it back to the shelter, he was in a foul mood, and he trembled from the horror of what he had done. He entered, stumbled over his belt bag, dropped his firewood everywhere, and swore loudly. In a way, it was good that Mr. Jewel still had not arrived, for Ven would not be pleasant company at this particular moment. Muttering acerbically, he picked up the wood and got to work.