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Sakhile was facing something he'd never really faced before. Hybrid hate... He knew about it of course! Growing up in Neued you heard about all the trouble Alkidikes gave hybrids but because there was such a slew of people in Neued of different races it hadn't really affected him. Or maybe it was his well known mother that had kept him safe from it. But now, here on the border of Oba, he was finding out that life had its downs.

He'd gotten separated from his friends; mostly because one saw some matorians and went to talk, the other went shopping for food.. leaving him by himself to wander the small village. he'd felt the eyes and heard some whispers but had passed it off as his hair just attracting attention. The dark purple was not a color seen often but had never gotten him hate before.

The drunk had caught him by surprise and Sakhile found himself backing up as the taller oban grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.

"What -re ye? Yer not colored right."
Sakhile stared up in surprise; he was currently in his day time skin of the dark black blue... but surely they knew of shifters?

".. A shifter?" He asked back innocently as he tried to get away from the smell of alcohol.

"Shifters ain't purple."

"Well. I have a bit of mix from the father's side."

"Filthy hybrids! The Gods made us pure fer reason! We ain't supposed to dilute the blood our Gods made!"

He looked up in shock then smiled and shook his head. "That would be your opinion. But I'm sure that they'd prefer people to mix and be happy right?"

"Just walking about... though even if I was supposed to stay here his attitude is not the right way to go about things!" Sakhile shook his head and had to flip the long bangs out of his face. Normally he would have backed off with a laugh and left but.. it sat wrong with him that some Oban could just walk up to him and .... yell at him since he wasn't pureblood. He should have just let the Matorian girl handle it but that also sat wrong with him. He was supposed to be on a journey of self discovery and if he just slipped away from any danger than that wouldn't be a lot of self discovery would it? Just running.

"Wrong color! There's people of all sorts of--" His response was cut off when the Oban growled and tried to shove the girl out of the way.

"Hey now! Drunk or not you need to chill off there, pal." The teenager, confident that words would protect him and always be listened too, tried to talk at someone not willing to listen. "I get it, you don't like people not like me! Doesn't mean you should do anything bout it or try to hurt others trying to help me! I doubt your gods would appreciate you doing random violence to random strangers for no reason other than you're too closed minded to accept others!

Sakhile was shocked and angered at the oban's reaction. What sort of person acted that way? Hitting a person for no reason? Calling a free woman a slave, hybrid hatred, and arrogance...he'd heard the tales, from obans themselves in fact! But he had never quite believed that such people existed.. .Now he knew.

"No one rules over another! Only the gods can do that." Sakhile said, his pale grey eyes flashing. "You can take your arrogant filthy beliefs and shove it! Only place those words belong is a pile of trash."

Sakhile was not a fighter; never had been... but watching some girl get hurt trying to protect him was, he discovered, a little humiliating and painful to watch. He shouldn't be hiding behind someone! Even if they were older than him and probably knew how to fight unlike him.

He barely managed to duck the drunks flailing swings and tried to kick the man's legs out from under him. It didn't work too well since he was so much lighter and smaller than the oban.

He noticed that and hopped back a bit. Looking over at the matorian he paused but then nodded. "Alright. You sure you can get out though?" He didn't want to run away and leave someone to get the brunt of hatred that had first been meant for him.