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The woman's words made him chuckle. "What's this? Sun-dwellers against other Sun-dwellers? I find that... amusing." Valenarr smirked cynically.

"But as for any festival, I must decline as well. I'll find a place where I can watch easily without being discovered, or something of the sort..." Valenarr also had a tendency to repeat himself...

"Perhaps some other troupe of idi... str... unique folk will walk up and join us, or perhaps another raiding party will descend while I'm out here away from this festival... Or maybe I can find a nice tree to take a nap in." He stretched, but did not yawn.

He sighed. "Well, I've found one thing I've in common with you, Ash'rael..." He chuckled, and paused for dramatic effect. "We both can't be seen around the common folk..." He chuckled again, still bearing that cynical smirk.

"I find that amusing..."

Valenarr made a rather obnoxious noise. "Bah! You all look the same to me..." He chuckled. "I don't know how you sun-dwellers tell the difference, save for a few... minor things..."

"However, I am a different case. There is no mistaking me for something else. Simply because my skin is the blackest of ebony, making shadows look like a mere gray..." Valenarr shook his head, his white hair sweeping his back as he did so.

"We were outcasts to begin with, you know, our people running to the Great Underground to escape the threats of overpopulation so very long ago... before the Great Cataclysm... Our skin was once the finest of white, moreso than any other sun-dweller's, the white of milk or finest ivory... But after so long in the Great Underground, our skin absorbed a great deal of the darkness as time progressed, to enable us to see slightly, able to see each other, able to see that even then our skin was turning a soft gray as time went on... After a great deal of time, our skin was black, but our eyes had changed..." He pointed to the glowing, golden irises his own eyes had. "Our eyes make our light for us, which is why the sun hurts us so. We had grown allergic to the light, even, and consuming plants kills us..."

"I can only imagine why sun-dwellers dislike us..." Valenarr said with bitter sarcasm. "Perhaps it's because we are unlike whatever you sun-dwellers are used to, and to become an exile, for us Mirrians, is worse than death, because if anyone were to find us up here, a quick and easy death is not what we expect. No, far from it..." Valenarr said, shaking his head, not sure why he was saying so much...

"We expect torture, pain, agony, and not even if we are caught. The sun will give us that much... And if we are caught, sun-dwellers will give us so much more, I am sure..." He sighed.

"But enough about me, I'm going to find somewhere to wait until this festival is over and all of you get back... well, whoever is going..." He shrugged, looking around. The trees would be excellent. He could probably fall asleep in one... they reminded him of the structures stalagmites made in the Great Underground that he used to sleep in as a child when he was away from his family...

((Draft 5 of this post comes to life! Oh yes!))

Though the same was true of all the events ocurring around Zilden, the thing that confused and startled him most was Ash'rael's concern for his welfare. He'd been through much more harrowing accidents, and, as a side-effect of often working alone, hearing such concern wasn't a common experience for him, and he was never quite sure how to act. Even so he mustered a garbled "Er...Um...yeah. I'm...fine.", but it did nothing to alleviate the awkward feeling he got whenever others showed concern for his safety.

As the Mirrian dove into his tale, Zilden first listened with rapt fascination, eager to hear whatever the ebony-skinned warrior had to say, eager to glean any knowledge from it. But as the man went on and on, Zilden began chuckling and chortling every so often, obviously trying very furiously to contain his giddiness. However, by the end of the speech, Zilden erupted into a bout of raucous laughter, doubling over upon his sides and gasping for air amidst his laughing. When he finally ceased laughing, he very casually stood, dusting himself clean and muttered, more to himself than to anyone in particular "Hahahahaha....I suppose to have ego is to live. Still....Reminds me of a funny story...."

But, whatever that funny story might've been, no one ever got to hear, as he just returned to ambling about the clearing absentmindedly examining whatever caught his fancy.

Atnae was tired. She slumped against a protruding root and listened to Trask and Vale's argument, yawning constantly to hide the treacherous smile that kept creeping over her face. Vale didn't seem to notice how goofy he looked, ranting and yet displaying an intelligence equal to a common beetle, quite possibly lower. She was quite puzzled by Ash'rael's response, she hadn't expected her to apologize, Vale was being rude. Still, it was ....nice.... to see that she might not have them bickering constantly.

She was upset that her friend had declined to come, but one question that she burned to ask kept running through her head. What's a Youland?

The Dryad only refrained from asking for the sake of listening to the argument. Odd, but amusing. At least her friend was winning. She started to reassure her friend that she wasn't that different, but the Mirrian had started in before she could voice it. She sulked silently, wishing he'd finish whining, she'd been through worse.

Gazing around, she found some mushrooms of the edible kind growing on a soaked tree limb, which she stuffed into her mouth after her stomach reminded her, with it's usual growling, that she hadn't eaten for a while.

Valenarr began going on about how he deserved to have an ego. She couldn't help herself. Atnae My'yl burst out laughing, though the effect was throughly spoiled by the fact that she was still chewing on the mushrooms.

When Ash'rael came jogging over to him, Zilden was hunched over a mortar and pestle (presumably drawn from his bag) near the base of a tree, and upon hearing the suggestion to sit down, he obligingly plopped down into the soggy ground, splattering mud about his trousers as he continued to work on the concoction he'd created in the mortar. Without the slightest prompting on the subject, Zilly voiced his thoughts, "I have an idea on how to get you into the festival.....if you want that is. I can get everybody inside relatively safely. I can understand how you wouldn't want to part company with those who don't have a fervent desire to see you dead or captured. I believe that is quite a commodity for Youlands these days."

He stopped for a moment to dip his finger into the fine greenish powder and touch it softly to his tongue. After the brief taste-test, he returned once more to grinding and speaking "Anyway I just thought I'd suggest it, even the Mirrian is indiscriminatory in his own right. Apply this under your bandage dressings. Be careful, it will sting some." he said, offering out the mortar to her without looking up and away from the tree.

There was another brief pause as he drew a deep breath, finally turning to look Ash'rael in the eyes when he continued "And regarding my orientation. I am quite well I assure you. It's just that most people feel comfortable when their brain is tasked to a single assignment. I merely feel more comfortable when my brain is tasked to three or four issues. I am told it gives me a rather convoluted and erratic persona, and that moreover I 'for all my intelligence, I am remarkably dumb'. I wouldn't know, I am usually too absorbed in my own studies to care much for the musings of others." With that, he turned back to stare at the tree emitting a quiet contented sigh as his expression exuded an aura of lucidity that he'd lacked since he first arrived.

Valenarr had recently retreated to the branches of a nearby tree, one leg up on a branch, reclining, looking down upon those that he had decided to travel with... for now.

He was still uncertain as to why he felt the need to travel with these... peculiar people. The one named Zilden was the oddest of them all, as was the Dryad, whom he found rather... empty-headed.

Adjusting himself and leaning against the tree still, Valenarr wondered if he would simply be unnoticed and ignored and suddenly become left behind. Part of him would miss them, the part that wanted to see them die a slow and agonizing death at the hands of whatever creature or creatures awaited their journey, wherever and whatever that was.

Another part of him couldn't have cared in the least, and that was a statement of truth.

So really, left behind or tagging along, it made not a difference to Valenarr. After all, he was an exile. Part of being an exile was being alone. Valenarr had gotten used to that.

He wondered for a moment that perhaps the Youland and himself had gotten off on the wrong foot, but dismissed that thought. He knew they had, but didn't care. He also did not care about the Dryad, the strange lizard Dzali, and the human, as they were mere fools that pranced about, worrying themselves with the tiniest of things... Thought he couldn't help but wonder how he would've fared alone on that battlefield of raiders...

Valenarr sighed, letting his free leg rock back and forth, dangling from the cradle of branches he sat in, waiting for whoever to go to this bloody festival and get it over with. He drew his katana and began inspecting it, making sure it was clean, picking dried blood from it with his black fingernails.

Ash'rael stood and paused for a moment, considering his offer. Would it be wise? This was a man whom she had just met! Then again... he did propose shelter and didn't seem very threatening. After another moment, she ran off after him.

"Would you mind if I joined you? There isn't a place for me to go," she followed beside him, making sure she wasn't going to be hit by anything that he was holding at the moment.

For the Youland, she was content. For the first time in months...years, even, she wasn't being hunted in order to be killed or captured. She had friends, real friends. Ones that would, hopefully, try and keep her alive. Ash wasn't only content, she was happy.

((Sorry for the slow response....Creative Writing class is a real drain these days))

As he heard Ash padding towards him, he had to work with tremendous effort to contain a wry grin, still leaking a small smile as he turned to say "Of course. 'Tis why I offered after all." It was rare indeed that his plans unfolded exactly as he intended them to.

Hiking onward through the wood, Zilden marched in silence, opting not to badger the Youland with the questions and curiosity zipping through his overactive mind. The walk took them near the west edge of Adei, even granting them a small glimpse of the festival as they passed, but it was for the most part uneventful. He once nearly walked straight into a city street patrolled by guards (this was his normal routine, never before had he had to avoid the city entirely), but caught himself in time to realize that this would be dangerous for his companion. As he turned away from the city towards a different route, he reflected on traveling with another, and more specifically, having to take concerns for another?s safety "...Hm. I've never had to worry about someone else before. Very lucky I suppose, as I am very nearly abysmal at it..." he thought to himself as they trudged along the last leg of their hike.

Only moments after that thought, his home first came into view, a large misshapen building squatting amongst the fields and trees. It looked rather like several different facilities that had been squashed together by accident, and as if they thoroughly didn't belong together. Most obvious of those was the forge, from where smoke and steam billowed, and a round building with a long telescope protruding from a hole in the ceiling, quite clearly an observatory. Though the building was hardly more than a mile from the edge of town, the surrounding region looked abandoned and untouched by other humans, and even animal life. Zilly's "home" acting as a giant sore on the land.

When they reached the large wooden door inlaid with brass, Zilden mumbled "You'll have to pardon the minor mess...but otherwise make yourself at home." before unlocking the door to reveal anything but a minor mess. His lab was a disaster area, papers strewn across all the floors and tables, more maps and diagrams pinned sloppily up against the wall, small trinkets whirred and clicked in every orifice of the house, and the house emitted a series of beeps every now and again that would provide more than enough reason for wildlife to fear this building. Shuffling through the papers scattered all over the floor (he stubbed his toe on a rather large book entitled "Elementary Theories on Metamagical Physics", on which was stamped in large print "Banned by Order of the Bishop of Soltanarath"), Zilden sheepishly muttered directions "Hot water pump and my bed are that way...you are welcome to both." he pointed at an exit to the northwest. "If you are bored, I have a sizable library and observatory that way...." he gestured towards the east exit. "I will try to fetch proper medical supplies for your wound." And he did, padding quickly out of the grand round entryway, dropping his bags in the middle of the floor, completley oblivious to the fact that he'd just directed Ash towards the forge and storage attic, respectively.