the lamb was situated in the low glare of dim light.

the two heads snorted and wrinkled their noses; the left head's eyes skimming over words decipherable. etched in unknown language into sheets of yellowing paper and frayed edges. had they been smart enough, they would have known it to be nothing other than one of the more common languages on this cruel, blue earth: english.

but they did not know. and their hunger for knowledge drove them deep into the fortress, into the reaches where they knew there to be books. their master had left them to wander the halls of the fortress, left to cool off from the callous blister of the sun's unrivaled glory. moribund slept outside, when the night was cool, yet when there was work to do, they labored under the callous heat.

the pitt did not hinder their hunger for knowledge, which was a burning curiosity that burned in the pit of their shared stomach and squeezed it's captivating fingers around their ribcage and heart. they had only made it to this secret place thus far through a better hour of wandering. their hard work? finally payed off.

the left head concentrated, as if trying to will understanding of the glyphs into existence, while the right's head flopped onto the desk with a quiet thump that sent dust rattling. they had no desire to learn to read-- never did.

[member=2078]QUILL H.[/member]