His head was pounding as he lay on his back, trying to figure out just what had happened. It seemed that his body was aching all over, knowing that the only spots that were warm on him was oozing out blood. There was a large gash on his chest and holes about his thumb's width riddled him over. He knew right off the bat that he was mad, should be mad, at his foolishness for being taken. Yes, that thought was clear in his mind. He had actually done wrong. He had let go of part of his past to gain a new weapon, but he had been, dare he think it, surprised. His thoughts were whirling around, trying to piece together what had happened, but when he tried; his mind seemed to fragment and crack under the strain. However, a jolt of pain made him quite aware of his surroundings. He was now cold as whatever warmth he would have gotten from his once bleeding wounds was gone. He could swear that there was ice in his hair, but he ruled that out as it was softer than ice. Snow maybe? But he now focused on the soft sounds he heard. What was it? The scent of whatever it was seemed not to be bad as something that he swore felt like a sheep gently brushed against his forehead, not like he could fight it off as the cold was numbing. He could smell paper, ink, and a mixture of scents he did not care too much for, not that he knew what they were. He let out a soft sigh and his eyes cracked open slightly to peer up at what form was close to him.

He knew instantly that it was a female. The way that the red jacket on her form hung was a dead giveaway. He was a bit puzzled as to just why her hair was so short and what were those weird pieces of glass over her eyes for? True, they seemed to have a purpose as they showed a faint reflection of him, markings and all. Even more questions were pouring into his mind as he looked up at her. Why did she look so oddly dressed? What was covering her hands, they looked like white, fuzzy casings to him. Why was it snowing as it had been summer when he had last recalled. Why was she wearing pants? Why did she smell like paper and ink? Did all women here look so small? The sudden idea of her breaking made him upset, which only got him more puzzled. Why in the hell would that bother him? He sighed and saw the woman jump. A weak growl came from his throat when she moved to take a set back and she now frowned down at him before she put her hands on her hips. "Hé! Vous êtes dans ma cour, monsieur. Refroidissez-le ou je vous laisse ici," she said and he peered up at her. Her voice was soft and a bit soothing as it acted as a distraction from the pain. He stopped growling, knowing that it was foolish to as she might be the only one that could help her. She looked western, so he used the first language that he thought would work as his head was aching. ".. Where am I..?" He wanted to punch himself; he sounded so weak! He also wanted to keep that flash of pity and worry in her eyes from forming. Who did she think she was, having pity on him? He made to move but that only brought a hiss of pain from his lips. The woman paused a moment before kneeling down next to him in the cold snow and brushed his forehead again. How he wanted to bat her hand away! Her soft kind touch. "I will do what I can, but you must do as I say or you may not live," she said softly and he frowned. Better to live than die due to stubbornness. He knew better than that. No, he was better than that. "..Do as you need," he said, voice rumbling slightly to show who was in power and she didn't even bat an eye at him.

She got to her feet and very gently got her hands under his arms. "On your feet," she said gently and he struggled to stand with her, but managed to do so. He saw that they were both a bit surprised that he swayed on his feet and he caught the flash of pain in her eyes. Pain? Why pain? He didn't smell any of her blood nor could he sense that she had any injuries on her. He was focused on this, so he did not notice she had been moving before he heard her gentle order to walk. He felt his body protest the movement, but he got out of the cold and a sigh came out of him. The warmth was instantly soothing away the aches that the cold had brought. His eyes slid closed and just let her lead him as it was less strain on him. "Stairs," her voice warned and he wanted to growl. Why did he have to go up stairs? She was almost pushing him up them now and he sighed before he lifted up his feet to do as she had said. Were they always so heavy? She led him to a small room, the walls white along with white porcelain shapes. "You should take a bath, no?" she said as he guided him to sit down on one of the white forms and he thought a moment. That would be warm and he liked warm right now. "Yes," he said softly and she nodded before she pulled a few sliver knobs as he had to keep himself from jumping at the water now gushing out of the spout. "You think you can keep awake?" she asked, a small smile on her face. Was she making fun of him? None the less, he took in her as they both waited. With her coat off, he could see that she was a bit on the curvy side, but nothing too out there. Her light brown eyes seemed to play off her dark brown hair that fell down to just past her shoulders, a slight wave to it. She looked both worried and amused; was that possible? He shook his head slightly and looked over at what he was guessing was her tub after the woman had turned off the water before she moved to the doorway of the room. "Can I trust that you will be fine if I leave you be?" she asked as she smiled at her back over her shoulder at him and chuckled at his look of slight annoyance. "I will be fine," he muttered as he waited until she was gone, the door closed, before he slowly removed his clothes. He paused a moment to look at them, a bit surprised she had not run off screaming with how much of them was covered in blood along with his hair. He softly sighed and allowed to give her credit to have some nerve as he got into the water, a hiss of pleasure mixing with pain escaping him. He found it easy to relax, the feeling of warm water washing over his wounds helped ease the aching throb of them a bit. He closed his eyes a moment and was surprised to hear music playing, it was coming from down the stairs, but it was still nice to hear.

"La lune trop blême
Pose un diadème
Sur tes cheveux roux
La lune trop rousse
De gloire éclabousse
Ton jupon plein d'trous.."

It sounded sad, but comforting, the beat a slow one to help the calm feeling in the place.

"La lune trop pâle
Caresse l'opale
De tes yeux blasés
Princesse de la rue
Soit la bienvenue
Dans mon coeur brisé.

The stairways up to la butte can make the wretched sigh
While windmill wings of the moulin shelter you and I"

He hated to admit it, but she had good taste in music.. Well.. It could just be a fluke, a lucky guess. And as the song progressed, his eyes felt heavier. He sighed, knowing that he would not have to worry about the potential of drowning, but did not know why. He relaxed, closed his eyes once more.

"Ma p'tite mandigote
Je sens ta menotte
Qui cherche ma main
Je sens ta poitrine
Et ta taille fine
J'oublie mon chagrin

Je sens sur tes lèvres
Une odeur de fièvre
De gosse mal nourri
Et sous ta caresse
Je sens une ivresse
Qui m'anéantit

The stairways up to la butte can make the wretched sigh
While windmill wings of the moulin shelter you and I

Mais voilà qu'elle trotte
La lune qui flotte
La princesse aussi
La la la la la La la la la la
Mes rêves épanouis

Les escaliers de la butte sont durs aux miséreux
Les ailes du moulin protégent les amoureux…"
He was fading fast now, and was wondering just how long he was going to be allowed to be in the water, but was just lightly worried what would happen if he heard another song. Slightly, not that he would be overly worried about anything."… Woman..?" he called, not knowing her name, and he was a bit surprised she was walking through the house to get over to him, music gone. "Oh? Done already?" she asked softly, looking a bit surprised at just how much of the blood had washed away. She paused a moment before she walked over to him, a roll of a white cloth in one hand, a pair of what looked like pants to him in her other hand. "May I?" she shook the hand with her white bandages and he nodded. "Fine, he muttered and raised a brow before he grabbed a towel. He stood up and wanted to frown at how much water his hair seemed to have. He raised a brow as the woman, almost like a Mouse. Yes, it fit her perfect while a faint smile formed on his face while she was now scurrying to place some bandages around each of his wounds. He found that the mouse was focused on her task and only paused on her actions when she got to the gash on his chest. It was not too deep, but needed to be covered as it had stopped bleeding. "Is there a problem?" he asked as the mouse seemed to be stumped and could not help by be a bit pleased now. The mouse sighed and looked up, catching his gaze. "Raise your arms," she said and an idea seemed to hit her. "If you can." He wanted to scoff; 'if he could?' he knew he could do so. He did so and was a bit surprised to feel a twinge of pain hit him. However, the mouse was fast, wrapping the bandages around the diagonal cut that seemed to run down his whole torso. He felt drained when he put them down and managed to walk out of the room, clad in the odd, soft, and grey pants she had given him. Thought they were quite short and carried her scent. However, at this point, clothes where clothes as the mouse had promised she would clean his clothes for him. She gently guided him to another small room, only this one had a bed, dresser, and a few things he had no idea as to what they were. "Here this is where you can rest for now, all right?" she asked with a small smile on her face as she looked up at him. He nodded, feeling tired, and got into the bed, surprised at how soft it felt to him. He closed his eyes, finding it hard to keep them awake now. He relaxed, calmed, and then drifted.