For the ump-teenth time today, the fiery tah found himself gazing up towards the sky and the heavens. There were so many questions that would flood through his mind. Why had he been Awakened into such troublesome times? Why was the Weaver testing them so fiercely? Was there any truth to that usurper? The last was something Ifrit absolutely could not accept. No, he would never stop believing the Weaver was always working in it's mysterious ways.
He just wasn't sure about what to do with himself. It had been, what? Chance? Luck? The will of the Weaver himself? For whatever reason, he had been awakened outside of the heart of the Fire Tribe capital. He'd learned from those fleeing what had been happening. A part of him had not wanted to abandon his home. And yet, he had barely been able to set his paws upon the obsidian rock before his decision was made. He would not stand idly by while some heretic tried to take over their tribe.
Growling under his breath, Ifrit finally sighed, slowing his pace. He'd been out exploring and maybe patrolling, though there wasn't any sort of organization to the group he'd joined. They were all still reeling from the events he'd woken into. But some of them seemed to have enough sense to put together a measly group to watch for supporters of the Dragon Army.
"And what, exactly, am I to do with such a supporter if I find them?" His surprisingly soft voice asked the land around him, as if expecting it to provide him with the answers to all his questions.
[WC: 271]
AstoriaFallen
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