"No?" Jaq leaned in again to invade his space, as he drew that one word question out to its fullest. The corners of his mouth twisted up as Zane lowered his eyes. "I have seen the way God has treated those in the sun," he began, his eyes still trained completely on Zane as he echoed the man's phrasing. "I would say all prayers are met by an absent God."
Over seven hundred years have given him ample data to support that theory, so much so it would be a battle hard fought to even move him even the most negligible amount. Faith was a murky light by which to light one's life he had learned far too long ago and as much as someone like him could, he pitied those who had no other stars by which to guide themselves.
"When you are so possessed to keep your head buried in the sand, you leave me with but a few options." A proverbial finger pointed in Zane's direction, a baseless guilt to heap on his shoulders: this was Jaq's way. Even his voice, soft and whispered like a disappointed parent, was just the hammer by which he drove the nail.
"Now," Jaq interjected sharply, his voice loud enough to fill this space between them and the span of years that still stood. "There shall be rules. You will repeat them so I know you understand." Reaching out to grip Zane's jaw, he jerked his childe's face up to find his eyes. "All meals we shall share together. If you do not dine with me, you shall starve."
As he waited for the first of his rules to be parroted back to him, Jaq's fingers bit further into the flesh of Zane's jaw, tightening with every second of silence.