If this was all real, he might of recognized the idea that this single winged girl was someone he almost ripped an eye out of a young child for, he could of acted differently. He could of broken a smile that was accustomed to such a messed up creature, one that was living through the days upon some sort of quest that would allow ease over shattered bones. Maybe he'd break into that dark laughter that plagued the baking air surrounding their dappled bodies. These are all possiblities that would occur when he saw her, and was actually himself.
Now, it's the blood loss working the puppet strings, Scinfaxi frowning at the sight of the girl. While Shajake can easily feel the emotions of that white figure, they aren't understood. Emotion is unneeded process that cannot break through the filter for his brain to accept, therefore resulting in his lack of it. Today, there is a bit in store that can maybe used.
What he can feel from his mental companion, one that only he may view, is guilt, worry, annoyance, and surprise. Shajake only knows annoyance from The Unknown.
For our green eyed man, he feels a series of shocks through out his neck, the wound taking a life with its very existance. He stands without complaint, single ear pricked forward to catch her name. It's Africa, that annoying bird named Silas. It's familiar, but he cannot recognize it.
"S... Sh.... Sha.... Shaaaa..... Shajak.... Shajake."
Sounds that fall between his parted lips are deep, darkening with the pit that his sanity is being thrown into about now. The heartbeat he hears in the shadow hollow of his skull is fading away, a distant thump that could called his own heartbeat. It stops completely, taking his breath, his appearance of living when he is really alive, making them think he is exactly what he stands to live for.
Glints of curiousity can fill those eyes, clouding their glowing appearance in hot daylight. Night would be lovely about now. That cloak of black satin was his new favourite thing, where his body moved freely. There lay his ability to disappear, to not exist, to not be viewed upon and frowned at when the children see him. Their screams wouldn't have to heard anymore because he'd just be a pair of eyes and a sound of movement in the dark. Who would care then?
"Do.... I... No... You?"
'You know her, don't you? Can't you remember her, back with the flowers that were prisoners to be taken home when the rainstorm was heavy? It was when you had an ear.' The time that he had two ears is far into the past, lost in a series of events unfolding before him. Each event was gift wrapped and handed off to him, each one playing an important role. Gifts are nice to have, but all he can remember is disposing of them in his usual fashion. The girl who hid herself in the grasses got raped after cutting up his neck for not talking (She was such a bitch) was meant to casual company. A draft stallion getting a fix at the beach, bashing salt water into his wound who was meant to be a friend that he needed. This here? Just a creature left to see him die, if infection to take over.
She had originally asked a question, Scinfaxi taking a bit of time to remind the madman of that question. 'She asked if you were okay. Answer her. Be nice. For the baby.' "No."
That no speaks a thousand things he can't tell her. She wouldn't understand, she doesn't know him. How was she ever to care about him. All he ever was a man dying right before those beautiful little eyes, filled to their brinks with childish delight, maybe even worry. He's the psychopath she doesn't need to be around because she lives it perfectly. "She needs to die. KILL HER. KILL HER BEFORE SHE KILLS YOU." 'Lie. That's all you ever do.' "Kill her, Jakie. Kill her and bathe in her blood, bring her dead body to the baby and let it bathe in it." No. He replies to everything with that word now.
It's perfect these days, because it works with perfect outcomes each time.

"talk talk talk"