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　　Royce didn`t say anything the whole way back. Hadrian knew better than to ask questions. While it had taken years, he finally realized words weren`t so important between them. Hadrian saw conversation as a way to fill the gap—to breech the chasm of ideas, ethics, and experiences that divided people. Words were rope bridges that made crossing divisions possible. Only Royce didn`t like words, didn`t need them. In retrospect, it shouldn`t have taken so long to understand. Hadrian had worked with horses. He`d fought on their backs in battles where teamwork and communication was the difference between life and death, and horses never talked at all. Like horses, dogs, or cats, Royce had a language all his own. The thief`s hood was up, and that was all Hadrian needed to know for now. If it was important, Royce would fill him in. At least, he hoped so—no not hoped, trusted.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.