Kill me, Kill me, or let god solve it [King]

Lochlann laughed. He couldn't help it. The monotone way she described her hatred of pigeons was so very interesting.

"But don't all birds lack any respect for your monuments?" he asked. He folded one leg ontop of the other so his foot was resting on his opposing thigh and he tapped it into the air absentmindedly.

Lochlann was impressed.

"You have that memorized down to the last second?" he asked, and then he frowned. "Why? Do you hate it here?"

"How do you know pigeons chose to do so?" Lochlann asked. He was intrigued, he really was, and he was smiling because he couldn't help it. "Compared to other birds, I mean. Doves, for example, seem just as guilty as pigeons to me, but they have a nicer reputation."

He was still tapping his foot into the air and he noted her confused look with a slight frown, but the thought of the pigeons returned the smile to his face.

"No," Lochlann said. "I know I've been here about two years now, but before I came here, I didn't keep track of time at all."

Two years. Lochlann was surprised he could recall the length of time so quickly. It seemed like longer. It seemed like hell.

"In my experience, most people only keep track of the time of something unpleasant, in an attempt to make it go faster," Lochlann explained.

Lochlann laughed. He couldn't help it, bit the pigeon dialogue was really tickling him.

"I see," he said after a moment. "What makes the pigeons want to deface your monuments so?"

He'd slipped up for a moment, saying your monuments instead of our monuments, but he supposed it didn't really matter. She already knew that he wasn't human. The thought made him shift uncomfortable in his seat and frown again.

Christ, this was not good.

He still didn't know anything about her, either.

"Where did you live before coming to the island?" Lochlann asked her.

"Oh," Lochlann said. It seemed strange to him that she could remember exactly how long she was on the island, but not where she'd lived before.

"New York City is very exciting," Lochlann said. "I have always wanted to visit there."

He thumbed the top of his drink, tapping his fingers down the side. He was thinking about the city, and that it was interesting that they both came from the states.

"I was from Michigan," Lochlann said. "Before I came here. But I spent time in a few other states, too, but I never got to see New York City. Did you live near the city, or in the city?"

Lochlann nodded with interest as she spoke, but she was so very short with details that he found himself following up with more questions.

"What sort of work did you do in the city?" he asked.

And then, when she asked him a question, he blinked in surprise, because he wasn't quite prepared for the answer. Lochlann shrugged.

"I honestly can't even tell you the name of the town I lived in," he'd said. "My family ran a farm. We were some ways out from the town, and we raised horses and sheep. Michigan was...pleasant? I guess."