Bane laid beneath the tree for a while longer as his profound angst passed and his mind tried to skip to how happy he was in his solitude, alone now, but away from all of his problems. He tapped ‘Bessie’ on the trunk and stood up, stretched and walked back towards the house, suddenly he had a mind for fishing. When he got back outside the sun had reached its zenith and was beaming down. But he didn’t mind, Bane hefted his fishing rod and headed towards the small lake. The walk was a short one, and he was glad for it, the heat had begun to get him.
Victor lounged across a sofa, his head resting on the arm rest, with his limbs stretched out, taking up all the available room. He was swathed in a plume of dark smoke, which issued from his cigar. A magnificent room stretched out before him. Lush carpets brought in from the south, an antique time scale hung from the wall, periodically calling dates and times before reverting to the appropriate one, charts of every reverence called the walls home. Thick furs of beast unknown to even Victor hugged the floors close.