[[Action]]

[biteoffherhead]

[Just another day, another time for Moro. Though usually quite content to keep her distance from humans (despite her growing fondness and affections towards the captives of Luceti, she was still incredibly hesitant to be trustful), today it seems she's lounging around just outside the village boundaries. She's even stretching and rolling around, participating in very casual behavior, not very typical of her usual demeanor.

Of course, these slightly embarrassing behaviors are only viewable from a distance, as she quickly regains her dignity and sulks into the cover of the trees when someone approaches too close.

The second half of the day is spent idly hunting. Because it's best to stock up on fatty reserves for the winter anyway. You might get that funny feeling of being followed...]

Comments

[biteoffherhead]

You don't know the half of it.

[whatdeheckisdat]

...Yes, I suppose it would be worse for you than for me.

[biteoffherhead]

So what manner of being are you? Your scent isn't normal.

[whatdeheckisdat]

...Angels and seraphim, my kind are called. But in reality, we are nothing more than the descendants of a disillusioned people following a madman.

[He's learned a lot about his world and his people recently, and he's still feeling out of sorts with it all.]

[biteoffherhead]

I've not heard the terms you used.

[whatdeheckisdat]

[How odd. ...Well, angels are a man-made concept, now Dhaos thinks about it.]

Then I suppose the best way to describe myself would be a magical being wrongfully associated with heaven.

[biteoffherhead]

But not human.

[That's good enough for her.]

[whatdeheckisdat]

Absolutely not.

[And proud of it.]