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He rolled his eyes at the other's attempt to pretend that he was okay, and slowly tread over there, sitting down leisurely in a non-existant seat of thin air, and he tugged a glove from his hand, one of his sleves up to his elbow. Carefully digging his teeth into his wrist, he retracted and spat at the ground, offering his wrist to the other, "here. To replace what you've lost. You cannot heal if you have nothing to heal with,"

When the other was through, Kenrick had merely to flex his wrist, and the wound closed. His eyes were laying carefully on the other--for he was not beyond his wariness. After all, he was here, on what was once his lands, around them being ruins, and he was beginning to wonder just how long it was that he'd been out of touch with reality.

"Mm," he responded gruffly, standing and slowly treading past the other to look at the ruins, "it would seem so,"
Truthfully, he had no idea what had happened to him or why, or how long he'd been gone. However, he knew his lands like the back of his hands--he had a knack for remembering beings by their auras and these trees could have been his best friends, for as well as he knew and could recognize them. There was no mistaking it--these were the ruins of what had once been his castle.... or at least, the West Tower.

"It doesn't matter that you've trespassed. There's not much to say that you're trespassing on, other than the ground....and though I may mark it as my territory, no one truly owns natural growth," he muttered, his eyes pensieve and thoughtful.

The question may have been posed quietly, but he heard it loud and clear. He'd been asking himself the same question over and over again, getting more and more frustrated with each passing moment that he did not have the answer.
"...what is the year?" he finally inquired, his brain slowing its overactivity a moment to remember the year former to his being asleep. The other said he'd been sleeping too--maybe he wasn't the only one who didn't know what the bloody hell was going on.
'Though', he thought as he scowled to himself, his brow furrowing to mar shadows on his pretty moonlit face, 'If that's the case, the question I just asked will have just as much of lack to an answer as it would if I were the one asked,'

He sighed inwardly, awaiting the other's response.

"Good, good..." he muttered to himself softly. Only five years--that wouldn't be so bad...but for some reason, he found it strange for five years to leave his castle in ruin.
Something just wasn't right, "Are you sure about that?" he asked skeptically.

"I feel that your uncertainty is well founded," he muttered, and looked up at the stars very carefully, ".......no, it's....it's been........," he looked at the stars closer, "It's been longer than that,"

"........twice as much as your estimate....at least. Or close thereto," he muttered softly, though he knew he was loud enough for the other to hear him coherantly. A sigh of frustration escaped his lips and he strode past the other, looking at the ruins, entering them and scanning them for any shards of what he once knew, other than the basic architectural layout.

"Who?" he muttered as he kicked over a bit of rubble revealing some chinaware that's shattered, "You really ought to tell me what's going on here, boy,"