The boy trembled there in the back, trying to get himself under control. But when he heard he'd ruined something, slave-mode kicked in, and he immediately tried to get up, roll over, and fix whatever it was that he'd broken. Not only did he wind up making the pain worse, he wound up cutting himself on some of the broken glass, because his hands were shaking far too much to actually pick it up with any sort of dexterity. Of course, he was already whimpering, and a cut hand was nothing compared to the pain his his chest and leg, so he just watched the blood form, eyes wide and scared.

"I... broke it." he spoke in a scratchy-from-disuse voice, still looking down at his cut hand, and the glass in it, before convulsing from the pain, dropping the glass, and coughing into the cut hand. When he finally stopped coughing, tears were streaming down his face at the pain, at the sheer shame of it all, and because he'd messed up again.

"I broke it..." he said again, sniffling, and using his free arm to wipe the flowing tears from his eyes. "I... I'm sorry. I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

The tears dried easily enough, and so did the blood - from the boy's cheeks. By the time he was done sobbing, though, he was so very exhausted, that he simply flopped onto anything nearby that looked soft, and watched out the back of the wagon as they moved. He couldn't really protest the pain, nor could he do anything about it, so he'd just decided to live with it... But who were these other people, then? One in the front, driving the wagon, the other back here with him.. they smelled strange and unfamiliar. Some of the scents of the powders and concoctions around him hurt his nose, and he sneezed. This definitely wasn't the armory. Had he been sold again?

Questions raced through his mind as he lay there, watching the one next to him. Was he going to be beaten again for breaking something?

"We're here!" Razyn called back over his shoulder, gently pulling the cart to a stop. "Everything okay back there? Thought I heard crying..." And breaking, but he really couldn't care less about that. The little cat thing was higher priority. He turned on the seat, peering back at the two. "Well, looks like the sleeping cutie woke up. Hi there!" The boy's lip twitched into a lopsided grin that seemed to just radiate good cheer and mirth. "How are you feeling, hm?" Eyes noticed the broken shards and spilled medicinals, but he didn't comment on them.

The catboy watched the driver curiously, but didn't say anything to him. He knew the cart had stopped, but when he tried to put weight on his leg, he yowled in pain, and drew back into the cart hastily. He didn't want to try that again. Plus, there was broken things in the cart, and they were his fault. He looked up at the shelves, and started to put bottles back on shelves, not even mindful of his wounded hand. It hurt, but he felt like he had to do something before the other one got upset.

"Aye, I say we have. A good room, possibly food for the little thing." Razyn said, climbing down from the driver's seat to head around to the back. "Hey, careful now. Mind the broken glass; don't want to get too cut up, now do you?" He offered the catboy a smile before looking back up to Gabe. "Need some help getting him inside?"

The boy continued to put things away, even if he wasn't sure where everything went, until he was sure there were no more glass bottles on the ground. Then, he started wiping up the medicine that had been spilled, using his own rags as a soaking cloth, and soon without a shirt. Still, he was sure this wasn't going to solve anything, but at least he was helping, he wasn't useless - was he? Was he a burden to his new masters?

There was a momentary glint in the boy's eyes, a shine of temptation, before the boy reigned in his self control. He may be a theif, but he was a man of his word. And he'd said he'd help the healer, so that meant no stealing. Even if it would have been extremely easy to do so. Money in hand, he headed into the inn to get them a nice, comfortable room and some food.

The price had been around 3 gold coins. 2 copper pieces and a silver coin later, laced with glamour and paired with a charismatic grin and some well-placed compliments, he'd booked them a room. Food was going to be served as soon as it was done cooking. Splendid! He smiled, shaking the innkeep's hand as the man slipped his money into his pouch, before heading to the door to wait for his new companions.

The boy turned to look at the healer, and dipped one ear in assent. But as soon as he put his foot on the ground, he collapsed to said ground, unable to walk on the leg. It was clear that it was either broken, or badly sprained. Either one would result in not being able to use the leg. Quietly, the catboy whimpered, as he tried to get up again, using the wagon for support. He was going to not be a burden. He didn't want to be a burden. He didn't even ask for help, using his good leg to sort of... hop along behind the healer.

The catboy took the other's hand, and hobbled toward the Inn's door, a bit wobbly, and a bit lightheaded. But he didn't want to disappoint, so he tried to remain mostly upright until he found a bed. After that, he just sort of sank into it, and found that he really didn't want to move anymore, thanks much. He knew the two around him were probably very mad. He'd ruined glasses and jars, and ruined his clothes, and made a mess... but maybe they wouldn't be quite so mad if he... was just quiet? He hurt, and whimpering was going to happen, but he didn't have to say anything else.. just stay out of the way, stay quiet, and don't be a bother.

"Wonder when the food's going to get here. Dunno about you two, but I'm pretty hungry." The boy said, smiling and taking a seat in on of the chairs in the room. "Oh, here. Your pouch." he said, nonchalantly tossing the back of coins at the healer. "Was able to get a fairly good price on the room and board; didn't even have to break out the gold." A small mischievous edge entered his smile, but he didn't say much else on it.

Green eyes peered at the little form that had just fell on the bed, smile faltering a moment. "Well, do you have a name?" he asked, curiosity tilting his head ever so slightly.

"Issac." the boy said, responding to the thief, pushing himself to sit up, and looking over at the boy. His tail twitched a bit in agitation, as he was still very much in pain, but he tried to still it. Don't make anyone mad. Answer when you're spoken to.

He added a slightly-belated "Master." to the end of that, and dipped one ear in recognition of his status in this particular relationship. There was no way he was going to alienate his new masters after just having met them. He didn't ask anything - didn't have a right, and hadn't been ordered to. Just sort of... sat there. In silence. Looking at the door where his other master had vanished.

"Nice to meet you, Issac. Call me Razyn." he said, offering the boy a grin. "No need to be so stiff; we're all friends here." A knock at the door caused the smile on his face to widen; food was here! Finally. With a grin and a quiet thanks, he received the tray of food, closing the door behind him with his foot as he carried it into the room.

"Looks good, doesn't it?" he asked his quiet companion, smiling and motioning to the platter of bread, cheese, and some sort of stew made of whatever had been caught that morning. "Help yourself; you look like you could use a good meal." He chuckled, serving himself some food as he spoke. He intended to get some talking going on, dammit!

Issac closed his eyes to sniff at the food, left ear flicking back at bit. It smelled so good, and looked so tasty, but he knew what would happen if he DID 'help himself'. He would be scolded for being a greedy little boy, whipped until he couldn't stand, and sent to sit in the corner, just like with the smithy. So he held his tongue, held his gaze toward the food, and just sort of... sat there, looking at it. Nothing in his conditioning against watching, just... No begging. No grabbing. No chatting. He would sit there until his new master was done with the food, and then he'd get to pick off what was left. It would always be that way.

To occupy his mind - and keep his stomach from growling - he started doing sums and grammar in his head. Repeating ages old lessons that had been drilled into him since he was a kitten, over and over, to avoid speaking, or even looking at his new master wrong. 1 + 3 = 4.... The dog IS hot, the men ARE hot, the day WAS hot.... 3 + 5 = 8.... Never use ain't, it ain't correct...

Razyn blinked a moment, looking perplexed. "...aren't you going to eat?" he asked, his tone holding a hint of bewilderment. "Is there something wrong with the food? I could go get something else if you would prefer that." This boy was an odd one, that was for sure. Not that Razyn could really blame him, though. "You know, it's okay for you to eat. No one's going to come in here yelling at you. Promise." He offered the boy a smile, trying to reassure him. They were all friends...well, acquaintances here, right? No need to be so on-edge.

The catboy dipped his ear again, and looked toward the food. Something inside of him wouldn't let him deny the needs of his body, and he gingerly - juggling a bit to spare his injured leg - made his way over to the food. Even as he got there, he looked at it as though it were going to bite him, before timidly... tentatively... taking a small roll, and nibbling it, held close to him, like a tiny mouse with a morsel. His eyes looked downright feral - taking that food away from him just now could wind up with someone losing a finger. Or a hand - depending on how quick they were.

"...not much of a talker, are you?" Razyn commented as he at his own food, relaxing in his chair. "That's okay, though. You don't have to talk if you don't want to. Perfectly understandable." He noticed the look on the other boy's face....something told him it'd be wise not to make any sudden movements. He'd seen looks like that before; he wasn't a daft man.

As he ate, his foot tapped against the wooden floorboards, keeping an even rhythm to the tune that played in his head.

It didn't take long for the bread to vanish - followed by another roll, and a bit of cheese. But he wasn't taking anything that was anywhere near his master's plate. That would be rude, and would get him another beating. He was feeling sort of... lightheaded, by the time he was done eating, and a bit sick to his stomach. But the food stayed down, even through his sudden bout of coughing, which just seemed to exacerbate the pain he was in.
He wound up curled up on the floor not more than six minutes later, coughing hard, more blood - although it was considerably brighter than before - trickling from his mouth. Not in as much quantity of course, but still... bleeding inside is NOT helped by moving around as much as he'd been doing, and now it was catching up to him.

The coughing immediately caught Razyn's attention and concern. His own meal forgotten, he knelt by the boy, trying to think of what to do. He wasn't a healer! "Easy does it...easy. Just....just focus on breathing, alright?" the boy asked as he carefully scooped the little form up, carefully carrying him back to the bed and laying him down gently. Damn, where had that healer gotten off to?

The boy's pulse was racing - both from pain and other things. His entire body was trembling just slightly in agony, and his breathing was labored to the point of being a harsh wheeze. The pulse under Gabe's fingers was also skipping and pausing here and there. The boy had moved far too much, and irritated whatever was wrong with his insides.

For his part, Issac was afraid and in pain, so he really couldn't be blamed for what happened when Gabe tried to move his hand anywhere else. He lashed out with his only weapon at the moment, his teeth, sinking them down, and finding the flesh of Gabe's palm, and not letting go. Tears streamed down his face as he realized what he'd done, but he couldn't relax his body past the pain response enough to let go.

Razyn had to think fast. Okay, he couldn't grab the guy, he was already hurt and that would probably make it worse. Prying him off in the current state he was in would probably get -him- bit, and that wasn't going to happen. So, he decided to try and soothe the boy. By petting his head.

"Um....easy there....you're alright." he said said awkwardly, petting the cat boy. He figured his awkward pauses weren't helping matters much, so he attempted humming a quiet tune. He wasn't used to dealing with biting people....well, not in this context.

Reaction took over his instincts, and he did what most scared cats would do given another target. Turned his head around quickly, and sank his teeth into the next available fleshy part. Razyn's arm. Not his hand, his arm, since he couldn't quite reach the fingers. His bit down harder than he had with Gabe, since there was more to bite down on and into. Blood, this time. And this time not from Issac, other than the stuff that was already in his mouth.

The boy's breathing didn't feel too steady, and there was a quiet growl starting down deep in his throat. Earfur and tailfur stood on end as the tail began to lash. He was NOT comfortable, and the cat part of him was reacting to that.

"OW! Bloody he- ow!" Razyn's hand instinctively raised to shove the boy away, but he caughte himself, forcing his arm down before he hit the boy. "Would you kindly....release my arm...?" The questions was forced through clenched teeth, despite his attempt to keep the gruffness out of his voice. See, this is what he got for trying to help; an arm full of teeth and blood starting run.

The boy's mouth relaxed a bit, but he didn't completely let go. His eyes closed as he started to pass out, and he slid to the ground, unconscious. His claws relaxed too, as he had unsheathed them, and his tail flopped to the ground as well.

Issac was out cold, for the count... and still attached to Razyn's arm... although not entirely chomping down. Trying to remove him might cause more damage than leaving him there.

"Well, what in the bloody hell was I supposed to do?" Razyn hissed, hand moving to hold the underside of his arm. Stupid healer, acting all superior. Who in the hell did he think he was? And damn, his arm hurt. He was sorely tempted to try yanking the kid off of his arm, but he knew better than that. See, this is what happens when you try to be helpful! You get gnawed on and lectured. This night had quickly gone from interesting than....well, less than amusing.

Razyn looked from Gabe to his arm, careful to hold it in place to keep the boy attached to it still. "Thanks..." he mumbled, holding his now-limp arm steady. "I'll keep it steady..." He peered at the unconcious boy, sighing a little. "Think he'll be okay?" he asked, quietly. "They messed him up pretty bad..."