<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/LJX8V3E.jpg)<div align="center"><strong><em>Gregor Donovan</em></strong></div></div><br/><br/>The jeweled set of amber pools now were careful in their observation and movement. Oh, hubris itself had led the warrior of the One True God to such a place, a marked flaw within his make-up made apparent and crafted into lesson that even now barbed at his soul. As it was in his childhood, it was now, pain came with lesson learned and the scent of copper in the air brought stillness to the chaos of the mind- allowing for a clarity that came only when all was laid to line. The blonde locks that had slipped from braiding danced about his features as Gregor attempted denote and order each interaction, each gaze, each moment of absolute otherworldly stillness from crouching Terror to understand it better and by rights to understand what made the human girl so enraptured with it.<br/><br/>For those longer seconds, indeed his life lay in balance. But every second his soul lay in balance, at least if in truth there was naught more than the believe of those who had raised him. Magic and its use, that was the bastardation and impure use of the gifts like the ones he was able to wield through the God that strengthened him. It was the amber pools that flicked when the sound of wolves once more approached, as Conri rose, the atmosphere as suffocating as the vines, the forest as still as graveyard. But with a word from It, the vine fell as it once was. His body pulled up to booted feet and vines manipulated so that his arms were bound behind his body. Within the light, the flash of canines danced behind the guise of grin.<br/><br/>More shocking now was the exchange witnessed between the two. Behind him fingers moved in subtle patterns of gesticulation, as much as one could. It was not time for him to speak, but to merely observe. As if he were stunned from what wounds may or may not exist, as if he were taking accounting of the many flaws and errors that had led to this moment in time, as if he were repenting for what he had done to but extend the moments of his life. And yet he missed not the claim laid upon the girl’s flesh in touch and kiss. Nor did he fight that hand which came upon his shoulder to guide him. The talk of celebration and dining that did little to settle the tension in his stomach as jaw clenched and his boots found their path set by It and which served It willingly.<br/>