Arthur waited… and waited… and waited.
Tapping his foot impatiently as his friend rummaged through his belongings in search of the ancient tome. His gaze lazily flew from one random thing to another.
A scattering of books at the reading table… The dull cobblestone where a window should have been. Arthur was now convinced the window would appear at the Warlock's command but dared not ask how.
With a heavy sigh, his eyes glazed over the tiles, analysing the intricate designs carved into the dull brown floor tiles, until they froze at his feet. As his foot tapped over the marble floor, he thought he imagined tiny cracks form from the force of his gentle tap.
Incidentally, this small and insignificant phenomenon seamed to dull the noise of his monotonous tapping.
