If there was anything that Timothy would have to credit to his frie—to Han, the guy who had forced him. Well, to the idiot that invited him to Kraelonia Academy. He had to give credit to the way that his mind worked. From throwing beer bottles at Gargoyles, running off in the city when there was trouble in the air and actually searching for him at the library. The man had his share of ideas, thoughts and things that could have driven him mad.
And right now though was the complete opposite. His mind wasn't working overtime and trying to think of a way to get himself out of this mess, his thoughts slowed down for a moment. And his eyes met an intensity and hue that was incomparable to anything he had seen before.
Timothy Cook had seen a lot of things.