Leaving itself was a defeat. But it was all there was left.
He had seen his friends fall to the hands of those heartless savages. He'd held their hands as they faded away. He'd lost the only person he had ever loved--despite the nature. And now he was desperate.
A thick boot crunched on dirty cobbles. And he had arrived.
The Marketplace was where he started. Where he thought he'd find her. The bustling of people, the diversity... it was the easiest place to blend in. And right now that was all he wanted to do. Moving was hard not to do. They were like salmons in the stream, keep moving or fall behind, get pulled under--drown.
Blue eyes scanned each person he could with a cool detachment. The cloak hood stayed pulled over his hair. Hiding it. The longer before he was recognized--even his race-- the more time he had to think. The green hair he caught out of the corner of his eye was not the Holy Mother, no, it was a plastic representation.
He slowed, looking up at the Stitch in Time window and the plastic woman in the window. He sneered. How uncouth. How demeaning. The Holy Mother should not degrade herself with plastic representations meant to sell such plain and common things!
He stood there as long as he could without being noticed. Blues following the sisters inside. The one for which he was seeking and then something more interesting. The small black haired, bouncy woman. She'd be an elf if she weren't human. So short, in fact, for the race. And with what affection she addressed the other.
Yes, yes, for now he would follow the human girl. It was safer that way. And perhaps then he could learn what he needed. Without a sound, he disappeared back into the crowd.
He had seen his friends fall to the hands of those heartless savages. He'd held their hands as they faded away. He'd lost the only person he had ever loved--despite the nature. And now he was desperate.
A thick boot crunched on dirty cobbles. And he had arrived.
The Marketplace was where he started. Where he thought he'd find her. The bustling of people, the diversity... it was the easiest place to blend in. And right now that was all he wanted to do. Moving was hard not to do. They were like salmons in the stream, keep moving or fall behind, get pulled under--drown.
Blue eyes scanned each person he could with a cool detachment. The cloak hood stayed pulled over his hair. Hiding it. The longer before he was recognized--even his race-- the more time he had to think. The green hair he caught out of the corner of his eye was not the Holy Mother, no, it was a plastic representation.
He slowed, looking up at the Stitch in Time window and the plastic woman in the window. He sneered. How uncouth. How demeaning. The Holy Mother should not degrade herself with plastic representations meant to sell such plain and common things!
He stood there as long as he could without being noticed. Blues following the sisters inside. The one for which he was seeking and then something more interesting. The small black haired, bouncy woman. She'd be an elf if she weren't human. So short, in fact, for the race. And with what affection she addressed the other.
Yes, yes, for now he would follow the human girl. It was safer that way. And perhaps then he could learn what he needed. Without a sound, he disappeared back into the crowd.