<br/><div class="floatleft">(https://66.media.tumblr.com/97b57f60d56d842e3d1df85b70fe905e/tumblr_pq0mv4gBXa1v7qsymo1_540.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Adán Carmesí (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=303102.msg14805159#msg14805159)<br/><strong>Tagging | Mentioning:</strong>Hermes | Niko | Fen<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Gaia, ????<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>As pictured, golden rings<br/><strong>Mood:</strong>Isolated<br/><hr/><br/>Adán adjusted his stance easy enough.  If nothing else he allowed a moment of quiet poignancy (a God of Change, indeed,) as the wind so quickly swept away the direction that he had begun to move, instead leaning towards Hermes guidance that seemed in turn exuberant and hesitant.  He wasn’t particularly sure of how much confidence he had in their ‘nononono not leader’, and yet if he was to point fingers at a potential deceiver in his midst, she just might be the last one he’d pick.<br/><br/>A trap?  Well, he supposed anything could be, but at least a trap would be somewhere else.  He began to walk ahead, a touch of eagerness to his pace.  Though his feelings about exile had not changed, even in his unhappiness he had to admit the plot of ground they landed on had begun to metaphorically stink of bad memories and worse omens.  Moving was better.<br/><br/>Niko’s new words gained his attention, a flicker of approval in his eyes.  “We all are burdened by  some… reflection, I would dare say.  I’m sorry to hear that you were not spoken for.  For what it’s worth, it was a trait that I believe was going around.”  Though Adán was tempted to make some sweeping generalization about each of them likely lacking a council they had imagined would be there, well… there was the case of Fen.  Whether it was a flaw on him or the company he kept, Adán mused that Fen was not particularly used to counting upon others to speak his good deeds.<br/><br/>Nonetheless Fen – as well as the others – were his companions at the moment it seemed, and he let the wolf slide by his flank with no signs of objection.  The interest in his family was a bit puzzling and strange to him, yet it caused his lips to give a slight smile, so Adán himself reasoned that there must be amusement in him as well.  “They are… l… not like me.  Well, not like I am now.  When that which you hold on to begins to fade away, well… you have your choice to hold onto a rotting past, or see that it is good and buried.  They clutched on, I did… well, the<em>disappointing</em>thing.  They lay themselves bare, bathe in blood and violence.  They wish for worship from a people long dead.  They see the world now as gone soft, clinging to illusions of sterility that defy life.”<br/><br/>It seemed conversation was going on, fitting enough for a walk that, so far at least, yielded terrain that looked more or less exactly like where they had started.  At least it was warmth and sand.  “Tell me, then,” Adán fell in line with the ‘talk’ well enough.  “Do you keep brothers, family?  I confess I know only one rather singular think about you, which has already been established in some detail.”  Well, not that needed clarified.  Being sentenced to keep company with a warden-rock for a millennia would likely prove the event horizon in many a life story, even a Celestial.<br/>