G o l d. . . A mortal's steam to grasp, G o l d, richness and meaningless titles weren't /Enough/ for a hungry wrongdoer. Colourless eyes were to drape across the s l e e p i n g kingdom of Agrabah, a kingdom which was in many tales of novels and words of lips. How the silver moonlight kissed the night as it invaded the shadows which shivered and hissed at it, however, the warm breeze was brushing through the hairs which grew tall upon the Vizier's coppered skin, L e a v i n g the world of duties behind the chambers door. Heavy r o b e s which swept across the cold floors of the art of many slaves back in the day, following each step the villain m a d e, the sharpness of the alive feathered figure's feet were resting upon the bladed shoulder of its owner, — Jafar. Jafar h a l t e d his tracks upon the balcony that joined his chambers, allowing the c o o l wind to battle with his c a p e as the vizier /Observed/ the night, it seemed the sunless atmosphere was his favourite. . . Sucking on a d e e p breath, stealing the fresh air above Jafar, later to use it to its advantage by throwing it away from the gaps of his nostrils, however the night betrayed him while his e a r s deceived the madman, causing the man who was birthed with the name of Jafar, ordering Iago to l e a v e his side with a touch of his cold breath. . . He /Needed/ to find the diamond in the rough, at this, the parrot flapped away, resulting Jafar to turn with the spin of his h e e l after hearing the knock which trembled through the doors of his chambers.