[Mousen]

She missed the warmth, she was a person of the desert, used to the heat, and the living conditions that went along with the harsh desert sands. She wasn't used to the ice and snow of the mountains. The mountains looked as they did everyday, cold, bleak and snow capped. Despite the fact it wasn't snowing, the wind was howling, blowing and twisting the fallen snow. She'd picked a very strange place to visit for someone who hated the cold. It was lucky she'd reached the shrine, the young woman was shivering despite the heavy coat she wore. She smoothed her snow covered hair down a little, hoping that she didn't look too much of a mess. Next time she felt the need to visit somewhere religious, she was going to Nu'san. Even better, she'd just stay at home.

Inside the shrine it was a great deal warmer than the freezing temperatures outside, but it was still too cold for her tastes, far too cold. Why anyone would come here was beyond her, who'd want to almost die of hypothermia when they could visit a nice, warm, jungle temple and get malaria instead?

The young woman's hair was dark and fairly short, it couldn't have been much longer than shoulder length. As she walked, various bangles and bracelets jingled on her wrists. Zari was one of those people that always seemed to  carry summer with them, inspite of looking a little downtrodden she wouldn't have looked out of place on the beaches of Sar'fir or Jawan.

She was too impulsive for her own good, really, even now she wouldn't have been able to tell you exactly why she had set of for Basantha. Perhaps it was just too annoy her friend's at the circus, they always seemed to worry about her. She couldn't see the reason of it herself, why, she hadn't ever gotten into a life threatening situation she hadn't gotten out of sooner or later. Besides, what danger could she find herself in here? The only around were a few monks, tourists and several people praying. It seemed completely safe to her, the only danger was that Silas would kill her when she got back. Poor Silas, he was always worried about something. You wouldn't expect him to be a ringmaster, he just seemed too quiet, more of an accountant or a librarian rather than a ringmaster.

Zari had been one of the last performers to join the little troupe, she was a dancer. Sometimes she danced as a human, other times she danced as a cavillion, her biolune markings making patterns in the air.  At that point in time, however, she was busy thawing herself out infront of a small candle.

((Fail. x3 Click pet image for human form. x3 And the title is so awful, I know. Couldn't think of anything else. D8 <3))

[MythicDusk]

Listening to the soft chants of the few monks that resided here, Belias moved silently in his Battleheart form, his skin hugged his ribs, scars stretched all over his chest and back, a few on his shoulders and face. As he took another step towards the Halls of Rememberance, he changed into his human form, which didn't look much better.

With a deep scar that ran from his right cheekbone to his jaw, he found his face to be twisted, desgusting, ugly. Forgetting that many women seemed to be attracted to scars. Even though he found himself repuslive, with his clothing anging off his malnourished form, his dirty hair hanging in his face, stubble lining the bottom half of his face, save for the line of the scar. His sheless feet were dirty, his glowing eyes were dim, as if they had seen all of the horrors in the world, and in his world, they had.

They had seen his world fall apart.

Silence followed him as he knelt before one burnt-down candle. Picking up a splint, he carefully lit the candle, and mumbled a soft prayer, as he always did. He then very carefully rose, as if trying not to frighten the flame and moved closer to it, moving so close to it, it must of burnt. He knest down again so his face was directly beside the flame and smiled softly, as if he was in his love's embrace again, and to him, he was.

[Mousen]

Had one not noticed the fact that Zari was shivering, one might mistakenly think she was praying. The muttering coming from her was more of a curse than a prayer, she was cursing the cold and the snow in every language she could think of. Why didn't the monks have fireplaces? Did they expect everyone to freeze to death? Why couldn't they have built the shrine somewhere warmer in the first place?

As she heard footsteps, Zari turned around. Her gasp of horror and surprise she quickly tried to pass off as a yawn, though the dreadful figure didn't seem to be paying her any attention. She was struck by just how thin he was, she'd seen people that were half starved, begging for food, even they didn't look as bad. She'd seen people on their deathbeds, the gaunt look was mirrored in the stranger's face.

Should she speak to him? The monks didn't seem to be taking any notice of him, that Zari found strange, weren't they supposed to help travelers in need? If there was anyone in the Shrine that needed help it was the man a few feet away from her.

"S-sir?" She asked hesitantly.

[MythicDusk]

The luminous eyes slowly rolled towards her, the male tilted his head up slightly, to look this intruder full on in the face, his hand drifting softly over the flame, as if he was caressing it. The man did not utter a single sound, and he turned back to his candle, holding it close, not caring for his personal safety. This little flame held a scant bit of warmth. To him, it was everything he had left of Keahi in this candle. Many people would of called him insane, some may of tried to force feed him, a few may of given him money in an attempt at getting him to look after himself. He had yet to meet one who understood the fact that he lost his mate.

[Mousen]

Zari froze as the haggard man looked at her, his glowing eyes at first frightened her a little. It was only after he turned to look back at the candle did she feel a flicker of annoyance, she was only trying to help. She opened her mouth to speak, only to stumble on her words and make a small squeaking sound instead, like a rat falling off a high pantry shelf. "I don't know why you're here of all the miserably hoof-freezing, hypothermia-giving places to be, but you're obviously in a state. Not to be rude, but you look like you've been dragged through a hedge sideways, not to mention backways and forways and any other kind of ways there is. You could be an escaped, murderous convict or sommat, but no creature deserves to be in the condition you're in. I know you probably don't want my help, but please, let me help. Whoever you've been praying to, they wouldn't want to see you like this." Zari really did want to help, she wasn't so good at getting the point across but her heart was in the right place.

((Zari has a slightly awkward way of speaking. XP; Shhh, oDo;))

[MythicDusk]

Belias felt a flicker of rage. What did she know about his mate? About what she wanted? That quickly dissolved as memories encapsulated him. When she broke his arm, she had nothing but worry, when he came home to her, wounded and starving, she would hardly let him move in fear that his wounds would reopen. A small smile toyed with his lips as tears began to fall down his cheeks. He quickly patted them away and slowly stood, his height was still rather imposing. He was a mass-murderer. But at least she wasn't a garudor. "Fine." He growled, his voice scratchy and low from so many months of disuse. It felt foreign using words, after so long of not speaking.

[Mousen]

"Fine"

"It's nice to know that you're being co-operative today. Now sit still and wear this while I go beg the monks for food." She pulled a fluffy woollen scarf from around her neck, it was a vivid shade of pink and no doubt it would look rather funny if Belias actually wore it. "It's freezing here, I'm surprised you don't have hypothermia. Then again, you dreamsnare creatures are kind of freaky.  I suppose I can't really talk. I'm biolune after all. I don't really look Biolune like this, though, eh?" Zari didn't seemed to be bothered a bit by just how intimidating Belias was.

It was a few minutes later she returned, carrying several loaves of bread and a jug of water. "The monks are being generous today. I mean, there's enough bread to feed a small army here, maybe my puppy-eyed begging won them over or sommat. Do you want to starve yourself or are you actually going to eat something? I mean it ain't none of my business but you don't look like you've been eating a whole lot. I bet you've got all sorts of mineral deficiencies, calcium, vitamin B, not to mention all the other letters, zinc, and, er, whatever else people get deficient of." Her knowledge of minerals had probably come from the back of a cereal packet, suffice to say it was rather limited. "So, do you have a name? If you're an escaped convict you probably don't want to go telling me your name or anything, but my name's Zari incase you were curious about it."

If Belias had been hoping for silence, he would be sorely disappointed.

[MythicDusk]

Belias said nothing, simply taking the bread, breaking off a section then handing back most of the bread. Turning away from her, he settled before the flickering candle flame, watching it with intensity again breaking the small section of his bread in half and holding it over the candle flame, watching at it slowly burnt and caught fire. He let it burn and softly placed it on the ground, watching as the fire engulfed it. He smiled softly again and ate the bread he had kept for himself, which barely amounted to a mouthful.

[Mousen]

Zari sighed "Oh great. I'm beginning to think that you're not a convict after all, but an escapee from an institution." She had no objection to being brutally honest, or even rude. Besides, if he wasn't in his right mind anyway, it didn't really matter, did it? Though, there was something in his expression that reminded her of something...

"Y'know, after my dad died, my Ma kinda went a bit like you. She fell to pieces, and that ain't a good thing to do with four mouths to feed. It was kind of like a part of her had died with him... It got to a point where you couldn't even talk to her, it was like talking to someone who was dying. There was just... nothing to say any more. Though, if I had been my ma, I'd have slit his throat. She mighta been ignorant as to where he spent his time, but we weren't." Her gaze hardened slightly, and she clenched her fists as she spoke. "I guess it taught me something, devotion might be one thing, but blind devotion, a complete obsession to someone won't ever be a good thing." With that she reached over and snuffed out the candle. Zari smiled, quickly taking a few steps away from Belias, well aware of what she'd just done.

[MythicDusk]

Belias' face fell, he stared at the wisps of smoke as they trailed upwards from the candle. He felt tears welling up in his eyes. She was gone, dead, nothing left of her. There was no reason for him to be worshiping a candle, of all things. But he missed the warmth Keahi always gave him. But she wasn't there anymore. "Her name was Keahi." He whispered softly, tenderly stroking the lukewarm wick, watching as a small section broke off and made his fingertips charcoal grey. "She was truly amazing." He whispered softly.

[Mousen]

"I'm sure she was." Zari agreed softly, her expression slightly concerned as she looked at Belias. "Though, it won't do anyone any good to live your life sat watching candles burn. If Keahi was still here, I bet she'd want to live your life not spend your's mourning her's. I know that's what I'd want people to do, if I died." She just hoped Belias wouldn't cry too much, she wasn't very good at getting people to stop crying.

"Starving yourself won't do any good, either." She added, quickly.

[MythicDusk]

Staring at the candle, Belias was silent, watching the final wisps from the cooling candle. Seemingly, in a sudden fit of rage, he threw the candle with a loud roar, watching as it skittered along the floor and came to an eventual halt. Turning his back on the newcomer, he said nothing, his brow furrowed and rage building up within him, slowly festering in his chest. He recognized this rage, and he embraced it. This rage stopped the self-destroying pain.

[Mousen]

After Zari had snuffed out the candle, she'd almost been expecting anger. Since then she'd let her guard down slightly and she'd been very much surprised by Belias's fit of rage. She uttered a squeak and ran behind a pillar, hoping that he wouldn't turn his anger towards her. She was the type to rarely be scared of anything, but when faced with a possible escaped convict that was practically twice her size, it was probably better to run. She was brave, not stupid. As he turned towards her, she tensed to run, for one reason or another she doubted he would give chase but if worst came to worst she'd like to get a head start. Why did she have to be so intent upon helping strangers? Next time she'd learn, next time.

"Did you ever intend to be a monster or was it more of a gradual thing?" What?! Oh god, Zari, you've done it now. You're dead. You're a gonner, you're toast, dead meat, and everythin' else that means that you're done for. You had to open your mouth, and when you open your mouth, Zari trouble usually follows. She glanced back at Belias, trying to gauge his reaction, she doubted that it would be a pleasant one.

[MythicDusk]

He felt the rage drain from his body and overwhelming sadness crash down upon him. The sudden realization of what he had become. He was a monster. He roared and clawed at his clothes, and his face and neck, leaving deep, ugly scratches. Then, tearing at his hair, he eventually gave up. Giving of a soft groan, he lay on his side, curled into a ball. "She was killed by a garudor. I killed every one of those damned monstrous beasts I found. And then some." He growled lowly, feeling blood leak from a few of his self-inflicted wounds.

[Mousen]

As Belias roared, she screamed a little and hid behind a pillar. Zari looked on in horror as he scratched at himself, part of her wanted to help him, to just yell and scream at him to stop, but she didn't. When he finally stopped, and the silence was seemed to emanate from every corner of the temple she walked towards him,  slipping off her boots as she did so. The temple floor was cold underfoot, but she didn't mind. "And somewhere, there's a garudor, like you, killin' every battleheart he finds because one of them was cruel enough to kill his mate." Her voice was quiet, but harsh. There was a reproving tone on her voice. "And, it's hard but you've got to move on. This kind of grief isn't healthy, it's destroying you. I'll be damned if I let it. You're a pig, a vicious murdering, griefstricken, lovesick, insane pig, you hear me Belias? You're the scourge of Evelon, lost and alone with no one but yourself left to blame, but you're still human, or animal, or somethin'. Beneath all this, you are still a person. So, move on or be left to rot." As she went on, her voice got softer, despite her rather harsh words.

With that she found out a tissue and a small bottle from her bag. The oil in the bottle was a green-ish colour, and smelt like bayleaf and rosemary. She sat down on the floor next to Belias and began to clean some of his self-inflicted wounds. After several moments of silence she added. "And I hope that stings, you deserve it for being such a pain in the neck. Now hold still or you'll get an infection."