Garash barely heard what Callie said over his lingering bloodlust. She took his hand to lead him off, and he only just stopped himself from "disarming" her. His feet weren't back on the ground just yet, but he could still note her lack of malice. She dragged him after the others. They went through the kitchens to a back door, and the serving women seemed put off by his blood-spattered frame. The group as a whole largely ignored their discontentment and emerged into the daylight. It seemed the rain had slown considerably. What was left of it, which was still a respectable downpour, was a sun storm. The clouds producing the droplets had blown off, and soon it would dry off. Bad news, since they were trying to make an escape.<br/><br/>Garash held his arm up to block the sun. It would take a moment for his low-light vision to adjust. Meanwhile, the light shining on him would dispel any remaining doubts; he was not human. His skin reflected the light and the raindrops sparkled on it. These details would be enchanting if he wasn't quite obviously some frightening, metal-skinned monster. He forgot this fact himself, often. Every time thoughts passed through his mind on the foulness of Demons, his brain conveniently ignored the hypocrisy, and he would genuinely forget that he was one of them.<br/><br/>The group was deciding on how to escape, and Garash searched for the Almerkian words he needed. "We.. should go.. somewhere wet," he offered. "We can hide if they can't smell us." The rain was going to stop soon, but there were plenty of places where the moisture would linger. Wet places in general were full of smells. It became that one scent couldn't be sorted from another. It would be disorienting for him, but that was the point. The easiest way he knew how to throw off other Demons was to go exactly where he'd rather not go. As uncomfortable as he would be, they would be too.