The climb made the pads of his wide feet ache. The pom on his head bounced with each step and the wind on the rocky path carried sand and a slight chill, making him retreat into the comfort of the red scarf around his neck, pulling it up to cover the lower part of his face, pulling it tight across his nose and mouth so it would stay.<br/><br/>The tail of his scarf whipped in the wind as he continued on, his pink wings catching a particularly stronger gust, causing him to nearly loose balance. The gates of Belazir appeared over the top step and he breathed a sigh of relief, thankful of not having any more steps to climb.<br/><br/>"Halt! Who goes there?!" a guard was pointing a pike at his throat. He stopped dead in his tracks as he waited for a cloud of dust to clear from around him, reaching up to pull the red scarf from his face with a single claw.<br/><br/>"Donta." he said, "Just a tourist." The Guard lowered his pike and straightened up, trying to figure out what he was looking at. The question he heard everywhere he went soon left the guard's lips.<br/><br/>"And what would you be, sir?" he asked, pushing the brim of his helmet upwards as if to get a better look.<br/><br/>"A Moogle, sir." he said, "I'm from far away."<br/><br/>"I thought Moogles were small things that flew around everywhere." he said.<br/><br/>"I'm a High Moogle. From Vvardenfell." he said.<br/><br/>"Never heard of it."<br/><br/>"I told you. It's far, far away."<br/><br/>"Ah, so what's your business here? Come to see the Temple?" he asked. Donta saw his eyes fixed on the handle of the sword that was visible over his shoulder.<br/><br/>"Yes." he said, now smiling, "I heard it was interesting to see." With a wave, the guard let him pass by, and he began his way through the city, towards the Temple.<br/><br/>Donta sensed other Moogles in the city. A few could be spotted through shop windows and hovering behind some people. Some carried trays in restaurants, others flew around with bags, delivering mail. All of them stopped for a moment to look at him as he passed. Some waved. Some smiled and nodded. All sending thoughts to him of greeting and amazement of his rarity. It was odd to hear the thoughts of other Moogles since he was used to being around so few of them. He remembered the time he lost his pom and it was then he learned was real solidarity was. With it, he felt whole and normal.<br/><br/>The thoughts of the resident Moogles dulled to a drone in the back of his head as he approached the bottom of a tall staircase leading to the temple. He heard a chuckle in his head not of his own, because he didn't find the prospect of climbing more stairs amusing at all. This voice wasn't a nearby Moogle either. It was one he learned to recognize even though he rarely heard it.<br/><br/>"Shut up, you." he said aloud, "It's not funny."<br/><br/>He glanced down at the back of his hand. On it, a black pattern of fur in the shape of a whisp of smoke contrasted his usual white. Sighing, he began climbing once more, but as he neared the top, he started walking faster, running as the smell of blood was carried in the wind.<br/><br/>"What the kupo?" he muttered at the sight. Bodies lying everywhere, blood staining the stone. He rushed into the Temple and found more bodies. Holding his breath he strained his ears to hear anything he could, and the shallow sound of someone breathing was caught in the air. Following the breathing, he found a female Viera on the floor. His hand instantly went to her wrist, pressing the pad of his finger to her pulse.<br/><br/>"Hey, are you alright?" he asked, shaking her gently, "Wake up!"<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"She's not dead, at least."</span><br/><br/>"Shut up! I know that!" he spat over his shoulder. He felt embarrassed for a moment, talking to someone who wasn't there, but then again, this woman was still unconscious to hear him, and the rest were dead.