Gideon
Hermes slowed to a stop at the edge of the trees and walked into the village where they stayed. Other Uniques like Gideon were going on with their daily life here, their Bonds somewhere close by. The few children that were here were playing not too far away from where Hermes appeared, and as Gideon dismounted they rushed up to greet Hermes with delight. Hermes let them pet him and even lowered himself onto the ground to let the kids climb all over him.
"I'll be at the house ok?" Gideon called to Hermes. Hermes chirped in reply and helped nudge a little girl up his back. Gideon walked down the path and up to the house where he currently lived and stepped inside. Against one wall, there was a giant blanket and a few pillows where Hermes slept, and on the wall adjacent to it was the little cot that was Gideon's bed. The only other thing in the house was a station in the corner where Gideon could make projects. He went there and sat in the middle of his mess. He picked up a piece of coal and focused on the white piece of paper in front of him. Inside his mind countless of images flashed through his head. He narrowed down something he really wanted to draw. He wanted to try his trick again. But how? It barely happened that one time ...
His hand started to ache from sitting still. He decided to make it simple. He leaned forward, over the paper, and started to draw. The piece of coal was firm, so it acted like a pencil and didn't crumble on the paper. Each stroke was very slow. He always took his time when he was drawing. It helped him savor the feeling. He lost any sense of the outside world for a few moments. Hermes even got himself into the house and watched him from his bed without being noticed. Hermes loved watching Gideon draw like this. He knew he was forgetting everything that had happened to them for that few moments, and this time a small smile was on his friend's face as he stroked across the page.
Gideon tossed the piece of coal away when he finished, and stared at the image of a paintbrush. The picture was drawn to look realistic enough that it could come off the page. Gideon closed his eyes and hoped that it would. He remembered that feeling he had one time, and reached for it deep inside him. He believed he could pick that paintbrush right off the paper. When the feeling slipped away he opened his eyes, and let out a laugh. Hermes lifted his head from his talons. Gideon picked up the shiny, black paintbrush from the paper where it came from. "I did it again!" he said. He suddenly paused and frowned in realization. Hermes tilted his head and cooed. "I need paints too." Gideon said, and hurriedly went back to drawing with sparks in his eyes. Hermes rolled his eyes and rested his head back down again.