It had not been difficult, living in a haze these seven long months. He hadn't thought that was what he had been doing while he had been doing it, but now that it was lifting, he recognized the dull fog for what it was. His despair had clouded his mind, made him slow and kept him in denial, no matter how many times he thought he was healing. He hadn't begun to heal until very recently.

They were gone. Every last one. They were all gone and it was time to get the ******** over ********> He grinned as he stepped through the portal into the warm summer drizzle. Such a human word, yet many of the students at Amityville said such things all the time. The children were delightful playmates, conquerors of boredom with so much potential, especially the Initiates, but when the horsemen regained their strength, when the clans came to power, something would have to be done about all of this human bullshit. s**t. Hehehe.

It was a cheerful evening in São Paulo. Mmur had never been to this particular human city, though to be honest, most of them seemed awfully similar to him. He tried to look past that now, to see the way the buildings rose in shapes that were different from the ones in Toronto, Adelaide, Shanghai. If he was to one day be one of the masters of this world, it would be beneficial to know at least some of what the scholars did.

He didn't spend much time examining buildings in the end. It was... boring. A bustling restaurant across the street caught his eye instead, packed full of stupidly happy revelers. Wine flowed, and food was piled high on plate after plate. Food these creatures didn't appreciate. Food they certainly didn't need.

Mmur began his search by peering around the park he had emerged in. He bent and scrubbed his fingers over the dark soil when he saw something he thought might be useful, scooping up berries and leaves, nuts and sprouts, and placing them in a pouch at his side. Once he had enough, the horseman crouched under the cover of the trees and lit a scrap of newspaper emblazoned with some headline about a royal conception. Another human for the slaughter. He sat silently, stirring his brew until it was thick and faintly glowing.

Range: 4