<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/3jnas.jpg)</div>Tahariel<br/>Tagging:  Suzafan<br/><hr/><br/>He was in the unique position to perhaps most accurately understand the consequences of what had just occurred, consequences that weighed heavily on his mind now.  It was like he was in a different world, viewing the rest of the throne room as through a fishbowl lens.  Everything was alien and strange besides the heavy reality of the mortal's spirit before him.  Sounds in the room may as well have been spoken through water, as garbled and unintelligible as they were.  In an ocean of lust and hate and fear and pride he was a lone island of sympathy and sorrow and humility.<br/><br/>The lull in conversation-and in geology-brought him from his reverie, though he still only half-listened to the events around him.  The Queen had ordered him to be watched and not allowed to escape.  He knelt slowly, retrieving his ripped and dirtied robe, tying it around his waist to give him some modicum of modesty that he'd recently been stripped of.  Of course now they all knew what he looked like naked, but that was hardly the point.  Suzafan's comment brought a brief smile of amusement to his lips before he turned to follow her down the long halls of the second layer of hell.<br/><br/>He was not familiar with the strange twists and turns of Hells that his captor-escort was taking him through, though he paid quiet attention to where he was being led, turning an eye to Suzafan from time to time.  He decided to remain silent and contemplative until he was directly addressed, it seemed easier than trying find the right time to speak only to be struck for choosing poorly.  His expression turned quizzical as she indicated that he should be silent, wondering where it was they were sneaking to now.  Her sweet moment with what he could only assume was her pet brought him to a wry smile before it was quickly interrupted by the hellhound being turned loose onto him.  With a start he stumbled back, landing squarely on his tailbone.