Paul poured himself the tea and went to sit--more like SINK--into the chair behind his desk. His feet hurt...and he was glad to be out of the stink of manure. He had gotten used to it after teaching all day...but now that he was in his nice-smelling office, he could...he was relaxed. Partially sleepy.

He yawned.

"Ahh...good choice, m'boy. That will keep you busy for a few days..." he smiled and sipped his warm drink. "You'll enjoy it." More tea-sipping. Paul followed Daxton's gaze...and found the lack of talking...well...it was quiet, peaceful, harmonious.

"Well, I asked you to have a chat with me, Mr. Prince, because I...am aware that you don't like to talk much." He paused for a few seconds. "It's perfectly fine. However--I don't want you to feel like...you can't communicate with me...or others for that matter. I would feel...awful if I misinterpreted something...or...just couldn't talk to you." He hoped he was making sense? "I can...accommodate you in whatever way you need, Daxton. You just have to tell me...what you need." DID HE MAKE SENSE?