Renfield Turnbull

Nov 29, 2008 20:39

January 29th

I may have underestimated my new guard. I came into my office only to find a bowl in the centre of my desk. Upon further inspection, I discovered it was the one Ahamo smashed to the floor. Every single piece had been recovered and put into its proper place, aside from the impossible to remove grey lines, which looked like a part of the design, it was perfect.

Turnbull arrived out of the bathroom, having cleaned himself completely of the glue. "Oh, ma'am!" he had flustered, embarrassed completely, apparently expecting a reprimand from me.

I didn't give him one. The praise I did give him made him blush as bad as the Cains seemed to have a tendency toward. He kept insisting that it was nothing. I decided then that I would keep him in my guard whether or not Jeb returned. He needs my protection even more than I require his.

renfield turnbull, guards, jeb cain, personal journal

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