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Valenarr's golden eyes narrowed as he fixed upon the one woman. "You're wounded..." He did not sound concerned, but it was more of a statement of the obvious. He thought of a few things.

Should he attempt a healing spell? Those weren't his strongest, and he'd rather blow something away with a fireball, fry it with a lightning bolt, or something like that.

He turned to the others, but then turned back to the one that was wounded.

"Who are you?" He asked her. "Who are all of you?" He asked all of them, as if he were interrogating them. He wanted to know if there was a reason he had been compelled to watch them and even interact. His brown cloak fluttered around him a bit more, getting wet by the torrential rain.

It was alright, though. Rain was his favorite kind of weather. It blocked out the sun, and it made Valenarr feel a bit more relaxed. So far, his voice had been apathetic, emotionless and utterly monotone and unconcerned.

It would most likely stay that way for some time.

Valenarr's golden eyes, which shone from behind the shroud of shadows that obscured his features blinked slowly three times.

"No..." He said, with the same apathy. His head slowly turned to each one of them, then back to the one that had spoken, identifying herself as Atnae. "Perhaps you could give me something less... trying upon the tongue to utter when I refer to you, should I decide..." He let that thought dangle in the air, as he himself had no idea what he would do with them.

Apparently, none of them thought he was missing an arm, because it looked like he was, though it was merely inside of his brown hooded robe and cloak, his fingers wrapped around the leather-bound hilt of his katana, Dyne. Would he use this blade? Or would he simply speak more. Valenarr had no idea. He was too far away from home, a home that would not have him, in a dangerous land that would, most likely, not suffer those of his kind.

It had been hard, these past few days. As a Mirrian, he could not eat plants. Solar energy, which was absorbed by these plants, were allergens to Mirrians, giving them stomach problems and even death in the worst circumstances. Meat had been rare; he had to fashion a bow, which had broken after the first few uses. He had not eaten well, save for the few mushrooms he had discovered upon trees. These did not use the sun, they ate decaying things, and Mirrians, being fungus eaters, knew which kinds were safe and those that were not.

"Why are all of you here in the rain?" Valenarr stated more than asked. "It is raining, your beloved sun is not shining, and one of your number is wounded." He said, as if evaluating the situation.

To anyone that knew of this world's races, one would know 'your beloved sun' was a used by Mirrians only, as far as Valenarr knew, of course. He raised his arm slightly, his ebony-skin palm upturned, soon forming a small pool of rain in the cupped hand. He spread his fingers and allowed the rain to fall from his hand, turning it to the side, and wiping it upon his robe.

"You are not the brightest of folk, are you?" He, once again, stated more than asked, his deadpan monotone echoing slightly through their surroundings, his golden eyes fixed upon the group.

"A solution would be pointless. A smart person would never be put into this situation..." Valenarr stated in his apathetic monotone.

He looked to the other. "I apologize. I have not been the most... pleased. I have had little sustenance, and that has served to only make my temperment worse." He said, though he did not show any hints of emotion in his voice.

"If you must know, I am Valenarr. Valenarr will suffice, since my family does not acknowledge that I exist, and thusly I am bound by my honor to never utter my family's name. I have no family anymore." He said, once again showing no emotion, though those golden eyes lowered a bit under the hood of his robe.

"But enough of my worthless speech. One of your number is wounded. I believe I may be of some help, though I am a bit... out of practice in my magical arts. That is, of course, if none of you would cut me down on the spot for saving someone's life... not that you could." He scoffed, actually beginning to show emotions during the time that he had been standing here. He was actually surprising himself.

"Then I shall not help, as per your request." Valenarr said, turning. "Suffer, then, since your stubborn nature shall not allow any other course." He was still not showing much emotion at all, save for their lacking.

He looked down, and he felt a bit chilled, the water in the robe cooling him down a bit too much. He let out a sigh. His hand within the robe moved, the sword with it, slicing his cloak open.

He let it fall from him, his katana still in hand. His black iron chainmail was now getting somewhat damn, the black leather beneath sheltering his skin from the rain. His black leather leggings began to drip with rain as he stood there, his long, flowing white hair visible to them, as he was turned away. His scimitar, which was still at his side, gained a steady drip of water from it. His katana did as well, the water flowing from his hand, down the blade and dripping from the point.

He turned to them again, his gold eyes narrowed, his lips bent in a frown. His ears were pointed and poking out of his white hair, his overall expression grim. The black-skinned face was something nobody would ever think to mistake. Mirrian, without a doubt. There was something else... Something on his arm.

The arm that held the katana was black-skinned, sure, but something was scarred into it. It was not a battle scar, but there was an X-shaped scar through it. Before, it had been a 'tattoo' of a rose with a sword as the stem, but since his exile, it had been crossed out. Not by his family, but by him.

His expression remained rather grim, still holding the katana at his side. "I mean no harm, but should you hate me for merely what I am, I shall defend myself." He stated. He knew outsiders loathed Mirrians, since they shunned the light. They had to. It pained them. Nobody understood Mirrians save for other Mirrians...

She glared at him, letting Atnae apply the leaves.

"I know what you are," she said, finally thinking it through, "You're a Mirrian." Still, she knew very little of their race and she couldn't recall weather they were hostile or not. Judging by how he was outfitted, she guessed that they were.

The rain still fell heavily and it wasn't making her feel any better. At this rate, she was going to pass out again.

"Why don't you sheath your sword? There is no threat here," she spoke softer now, mostly from lack of energy. Turning, she whispered to Atnae.

"I'm fine, really. I'll be fine."

"A you're a Mirror? If I may say so, I haven't encountered many that walk around. Mostly they sit and reflect the atmosphere, though you must be in the wrong place with that attitude." Atnae told him, matter of factly. She had seen one once before in Adei, it's shiny surface reflecting the colorful decorations. But this man...

Ignoring his rude comments (Including the one where he commented that he was not trying to be rude), she bent industriously over the wounded Ash'rael, ignoring her comments that she would be fine. The trees, sensing her anger, began to moan in a most unpleasant way, like banshees at night.

Ash'rael stared at him. So this one truly was a Mirrian...well, was. An outcast? He was somewhat like herself. Rejected from society.

Before she could utter another word, a piercing pain shot through her wound. As she cried out, she felt her knees buckle and bend. Sure enough, she fell and landed, once again, in the rain.

She was breathing heavily, her mind in too much pain to speak. Slowly, her vision began to blur and anything that she was looking at seemed to be multiplied by three. She clutched her side so much that it almost made the pain worse. A few, long seconds later, she passed out; falling on her side, her blood running freely down the cut.

Valenarr looked down at the strange creature that fell from the woman's pocket.

"Well well, what do we have here? A little lizard that can talk? Very strange... my people would eat you sooner than listen to you babble, little thing." He said rather scornfully.

He looked over to the one that was bleeding. "You are in need of assistance, you know. You should all get to town before your number goes down by two..." He said, indicating the lizard creature and the one that bled blue.

His golden eyes fell upon the lizard once again. "Strange little thing... I wonder if I would find you palatable..." His eyes narrowed. "That is, of course, should you perish." He added with a chuckle.

He pointed towards town. "Town is that way. Apparently you can't do anything on your own, foolish group, so I must guide you, I suppose. I simply hope that everyone is out of this rain... unlike you. They would most likely not react kindly to... one such as myself..."

Without even waiting for them to follow, Valenarr headed off towards town, as he felt they should, not really caring if they got separated or not.

Ignorance would kill them in due time, really. They were foolish enough to get stuck in the rain, one of them wounded, the other freezing to death. It was highly illogical and Valenarr would not feel sorry for them should they perish. It was their own damn fault, he thought.