Made In Your Image (Open)

[Ein]

There was something oddly comforting about the Temple of Earth, something that soothed the storm in his mind and the pain in his heart. He could appreciate the architecture, it was all made mostly of stone but the surfaces had been polished and buffed smooth, so it hardly resembled rock at all, only the keen eye of the most naturally inclined people could see the faults and the flaws in the grooves, stripes where copper or iron had infiltrated the source material, leaving behind what you could consider to be scars. Perhaps that was what soothed him the most. It wasn't really about the goddess herself, he really wasn't sure that she was real in any capacity, it was more about taking something flawed and cracked, chipped and broken, and still finding it beautiful. That was a really nice thought.

Padding his way down the front hall to the main chamber room, the wemic gently dragged a clawed hand along the wall, just feeling its smooth surface, its cold temperature, and testing the light gray, almost white, color to his own. Of course, his coat was whiter than the clouds in the sky, even standing before this mighty thing, white was still to be avoided, something to be shunned, a bad omen. He stopped walking and paused in thought, his gaze wandering up the walls to the high stilted ceiling. Maybe he shouldn't be here, he'd probably do nothing but embarrass himself, embarrass the goddess, perhaps she'd strike him down the moment that she laid eyes on him, oh how he wished for such a merciful death.

Brown eyes migrated back down to the floor, looking down at the toes of his big white paws. He flexed them experimentally, his claws were black at least, and his nose and the rims of his ears. He wasn't all white, right? So it wasn't that bad.... right? He closed his eyes suddenly against the onslaught of what he called "noise", voices in his mind- the voices of his parents, the voices of the men who raised him, if you can even call what they did "raising a child", voices of people who didn't even know who, or what, he was, there were so many voices- and they were loud sometimes. They rose up in this moment, telling him to turn around and head back out the door into a city that hated him. He was defiling this holy place with his presence, he should just... go.

But he didn't. Instead those soft brown irises of his watched as his paws started his body into motion again and he entered the main chamber. It was beautiful, there was a skylight that let in all of the natural rays of the sun, the marble and polished stone shining as though it were made of stars, and there were vines, long strings of vegetation hanging down from beams crisscrossing the high ceiling. Plants littered the floor as well, though these were potted and intentional, he wasn't so sure about the vines. He took a long moment to take it all in, counting the beautiful statues and the rows of columns behind them- there were doors off to the left and right but he knew better than to go through them. Instead, he made his way to the main alter, which was full of blossoming plants, thriving in the safety of the temple instead of freezing outside in the cold. He slowly unraveled the scarf he'd had around his neck and neatly folded it into the bag he carried at his side, it seemed only polite. The goddess was nude in the giant carving that rose up before him, seemed almost a shame to be clothed when she was not, it seemed.... unfair.

The white wemic shook his head slightly before laying down before the alter. She wasn't the goddess of clothes, in fact his scarf was made of wool from a sheep, which ate grass in the forest, it was another one of her children, she'd probably admire it not shun him for it. But then again, he was shunned by everyone for everything, why would a goddess be any different? Why would she not spit in his face and tell him to crawl back out into the wilderness, where wemics belong? The liontaur sighed heavily before finally bowing his head in prayer.

Surely if there was anyone who would have sympathy for his suffering, it'd be the goddess of the earth, he was her son after all, she had made wemics as well as humans, even though the two species never got along. She made the color white in the first place, cast it upon him like a spell when he was still in the womb. He wanted to ask her why, what was all of this suffering for? Was there something that he was supposed to do? Was he being punished for past crimes, for stealing a bow from a bandit? Or was he just one big cosmic joke to the higher powers? He looked up at the carving again.

Surely there was a reason behind all of this... right?

[Xantara]

Xantara had been in hiding lately.

Well, not hiding exactly. Resting. The world was tiring for the goddess, so she had gone to rest. All of the gods and goddesses had done it at some point in time, and even more than once. She didn't like doing it, but sometimes it was just necessary for her sanity.

But, something called to her now. She awoke from her deep sleep, to... anguish?

Her eyes snapped open as she pulled herself together. There was someone in her temple, and they were hurting. That made her hurt, for sure. She listened carefully, her mind reaching out for the being that was calling to her.

She felt it, him. A wemic? Not something that she had seen too often, but that interested her even more.

And so, something she hadn't done in quite a while. She decided to visit her temple. Though, for now, she took the form of a young woman; one that looked strikingly similar to the statue that Ein was in front of. She wore a simple light green dress and tan slip on shoes, much like that of the other priestesses in the temple.

She appeared outside the temple, and ended up heading inside, pretending like she had been there all the time.

Heading into the central chamber, she stopped and watched the wemic look up at her statue, a slight frown crossing her face. White. She knew what that meant, he most likely had a hard life, there were a few things she knew about wemics and their superstitions was one of them.

However, she stayed silent, and just watched him, not wanting to actually intrude on his prayers. And perhaps she would learn a bit more.

[Ein]

He sat and prayed at the center statue for several minutes, alternating between bowing his head, eyes closed, and looking up at the statue with hopeful eyes. He felt the need to say something, as though his wishes would be more powerful said aloud but, even as his jaw dropped open, he stopped and snapped it shut again. He didn't know what to say, what to ask. It was easier in his head, where the noise, the voices of the past, told him what to do, what to say, what to feel. He could fight them there, but out loud, in his own voice, in the silence, he felt exposed, almost traitorous. The goddess of earth had made him this way on purpose, she had chosen this life for him on purpose, it felt so wrong to question her in this way, to ask for something different, to request change. He didn't know her plans for him, or what role the other gods played in his life. Perhaps it wasn't her fault that he was white at all, perhaps the god of fire had bleached him with his light. One could never be sure with gods.

Sighing, the wemic closed his eyes again, taking a shaky breath as he mouthed his prayer aloud, trying to focus, trying to deafen the noise in his mind, the voices that said that she didn't care, that none of the gods cared, that they probably weren't even real, he furrowed his brow against the voices, gritted his teeth against the voices, screamed in the corners of his skull for silence. But of course, it never came, and after a long while of stubbornly resisting, he gave in.

Shoulders sagging, he looked up at the statue one more time, his brown eyes shimmering with tears that he would never let fall, before rising to his feet once again. He paused before the great carved stone, took another long hard look at it, before turning away, reaching into his bag and retrieving the dark blue scarf. He turned toward the entrance way, padding silently along the stone floor toward the steps that lead back up to the entryway, but it wasn't until he was done retying his scarf that he noticed the woman, standing there at the top of the curved staircase. The wemic paused, as though frozen into a statue himself. His first instinct was fear, the woman had no identifying characteristics- her ears were not pointed, she had no fur or tail, she was neither extremely tall or extremely short- he had to assume she was human. And humans did not like wemics.

He dipped his head at her, a polite gesture, a simple acknowledgement of her presence before he took a second look. Wemics did not have much in the way of magical powers- although he read many books on how to tap into ones magical energies, he had yet to figure out if his species could cast such energies at all, it seemed like they couldn't. But they could do other things, he could do other things. He was fast, he was strong, he healed well and had incredible senses, especially his hearing. But one of the main things that his species was known for was their ability to recognize faces. To a human, most wemics would look the same, save their hair style and fur color, but within the species, facial structure was never a small order, they paid a lot of attention to the bridge of the nose, the slant of the eyes, whether their ears drooped or perked. That was why, upon his banishment, they scarred his face. All wemics would recognize the deep X crossing his features, it would be the first thing that they saw, the first thing they would know about him and it was a terrible shame, a horrid curse, an unmistakable marking that made him unworthy of the wemic eye.

So when he looked the second time at the woman standing at the top of the stone staircase, he immediately noticed the similarity between her and the statues around him, not just her body, although she was slender, lithe but athletic, in good shape, and her hair fell across her shoulders in familiar waves. It really was her face that he recognized, her straight nose, her slightly sizeable eyes, the diamond shape of her face. Immediately, he bowed his head and knelt, tucking one paw under his chest, like a horse kneeling to allow its rider to climb on board. He clutched the strap of his messenger bag in his clawed hands, somewhat terrified. What if it wasn't her, what if it was just a similar looking priestess or the noble woman who had posed for the carvings? Doubt swam through his mind, but if there was anything that a wemic could trust it was their eyes, their face, their grace.

He closed those brown eyes of his and waited for the inevitable, whatever that was. He expected the goddess to banish him, to chase him out of her holy place with malice and hate. His hands trembled where they gripped the leather strap of his bag. But he didn't say anything, didn't look at her, just waited for whatever would come.

[Xantara]

Suffering was something Xantara never wanted to see in Kotar, or elsewhere in the world. But she knew it was something that was not always avoidable.

Yes, she had created, or helped create, the world. But there was free will of course, and that unfortunately allowed creatures to create pain and suffering that the gods themselves had never forseen.

Perhaps they should have, but they didn't. So suffering existed.

Xan had often, in the past, helped those that were being hurt. And this was not going to be an exception.

As she stood and watched Ein, many things floated through her mind. She caught the whispers that he had heard, and the pain of his birth and just life in general. She was sad, that she had not been there for him when he was younger. But perhaps she could make it up to him now? Though she wasn't sure that was completely possible either.

A soft sigh escaped her as she thought on it, continuing to watch the wemic and listen to his prayers as well. There was something she could do, of course, she would offer what she could.

When he turned and ended up heading towards her, stopping before he came too close, she realized that recognition had crossed his face. She hadn't changed herself quite enough to avoid detection, though most would not notice. She was actually rather impressed with the wemic for noticing. She had taken this form very often and was pretty much never recognized.

Now, she wasn't sure exactly what to do. She hadn't planned on announcing herself this soon, but she wasn't willing to lie either.

So she simply spoke. "Welcome to the temple of Xantara."

[Ein]

Her voice hit him like a punch in the chest, though his breath caught and his grip on his bag tightened, it was otherwise unnoticeable. She spoke calmly to him, welcomed him even and in that moment he found himself confused, conflicted, and it showed in the way that his brown eyes darted from one side to another as he processed this. He was… welcome? To his knowledge he had never been welcome anywhere, not with his family, not at brothels or taverns, only underground in the sewers, swimming through the same mud and disgustingness that the people of this world believed he was a living example of. But here he was, standing before the goddess- or at least he was still assuming was the goddess herself, if she wasn’t she didn’t say so. So he kept his head down, as though unworthy to meet her eye. His mind scrambled and he searched for words.

“Thank you.” It came out quietly on a sharp exhale of breath that he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He took this moment to unfold his legs and stand as kneeling was hard on his joints, but he kept his head down, only glancing at the woman briefly before his eyes returned to the floor. “I was… just leaving.”

He wasn’t sure what to say to a goddess but he wanted her to feel confident that this abomination that he was would not foul up her temple any longer. But it resonated in his mind. She had said ‘welcome’, accepted that he was here and praying for her, had not come to bother him when he was knee deep in his worship of her. She was behaving so… politely to him that he wasn’t sure what to do anymore. She didn’t say that she wanted him gone and he honestly would give his life to stay, to sit on one of the many marble benches and just… chat, ask her why, ask her what he should do, how he should live. He was so torn and tormented by so many things, he wanted to know why, why him? What did the people of Kotar want from him, what was her plans for him? Was all of his suffering for nothing?

Taking a brave breath, he slowly raised his head, looking to gauge the goddess’ reaction. He wasn’t sure what she could see, what her status allowed her to do, could she read minds? His aura? Could she quiet the voices? Was he safe here? He needed to know. He needed to know that he had a place to go, a place where he could lay himself bare and just exist with no one spitting on him or laughing at him. He’d desperately hoped that this temple could be that place, but if the goddess wanted him gone, he’d accept that too. He was used to it by this time in his life.

“I do not wish to burden you or deface your temple any further with my presence…”

[Xantara]

Xantara most definitely took notice of the wemic clutching his bag tighter, though she noticed that he was not looking up at her. This was not something that was abnormal, however. Oftentimes when she revealed herself, people would not look her in the eye.

Not right away anyway.

She hated when creatures were afraid of her, but she supposed she understood. It was not every day that someone met a goddess.

She frowned slightly when he said he was leaving. That was definitely not what she wanted him to do. She wanted everyone to feel safe here, and this wemic in particular.. she wanted to help him. Make it up to him, perhaps.

When he finally looked at her again, she softened the frown on her face, smiling instead. She really did want him to feel welcome, and safe.

"You don't have to leave, wemic. You are safe here." She paused for a moment and shook her head when he spoke of burdening her temple, "You are doing no such thing, dear. I promise. This is a safe place, and everyone is welcome here." She meant that as well, there were only probably a few individuals that she would make leave her temple, and he was definitely not one of them.

"What brings you here?" Though she had heard the prayers, she also wanted to hear them from his lips as well.

[Ein]

Safe. She’d said it, she’d said the magic word. He wasn’t sure that it was enough, hell he wasn’t sure what exactly he was trying to be safe from, but either way it was like scratching a dog in its favorite spot. He was safe here. The wemic paused, closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath, nodding his approval, still sort of struck dumb and in disbelief. He wasn’t sure that he believed her. He’d never had anywhere safe to be before, not in his almost thirty years on this planet had he ever been “safe” before. But he tried to convince himself to calm down, if he trusted anyone, which he didn’t, he should trust her. Though the stories always painted her as kind and benevolent, he had no doubt that she could do powerful things with her magic if she wanted to, or if some rowdy drunks piled in and started playing ‘Pull the tail off of the wemic’.

He lowered his head in thanks and in shame, but he glanced up at the goddess once or twice, her kind nature picking away at his shame and insecurity. He flexed his grip on his bag as she asked him why he was here, both knowing and not knowing how he wanted to answer her. He had so many questions that were harmful and accusatory, but he didn’t really blame her for his terrible life. He was a bad omen where she was a light of warmth and security, she couldn’t have had anything to do with the people he’d met, the things he’d seen, she probably had no idea that she had a wemic child with a white coat. She wouldn’t know the answers to those questions, didn’t deserved to be asked them, she was too kind, too innocent…

The wemic worried with his jaw as a long pause drifted over them like a low hanging cloud. It was clear that he wanted to answer her inquiry but was at a loss of what exactly to say. He focused on the floor at her feet for a moment.

“I um…” Paused again, clearing his throat briefly. “I just… need some guidance, I guess.”

He paused again, but this time something slotted into place in his mind and he grew a little braver, his eyes wandering back up to the goddesses face. Though he spoke with a purpose finally, seeming to get his head on straight after being so starstruck, his voice still wavered, his moment of confidence unsteady and fragile. But he had it, he knew what exactly he wanted to ask her.

“I need to know that they were all wrong.”

[Xantara]

Xantara could tell that the wemic was opening up, however slowly. She knew she couldn't push too hard, or it would probably cause him to move away from her more. She didn't want him to do that, she did really want him to trust her.

He looked at the floor again, and Xantara frowned a little more. When he finally spoke, asking for guidance, she nodded slightly, wanting to offer him something..

When he looked up at her finally, she could sense that his resolve had finally strengthened. And that was good.

When he spoke again, she tilted her head to the side as she listened. She didn't speak right away, instead thinking on what he asked. Her mind reached out, searching his past more deeply than before. She saw his childhood, and how he was treated. She hated to see what he went through, and she wished that she had stopped it, but.. She straightened her head before she spoke again.

"They were wrong, I promise. You are no bad omen." She smiled slightly, though she wasn't sure exactly what to tell him. "Unfortunately, free will sometimes has consequences..." She frowned a little, shaking her head once more before she looked back at him again. "For what it's worth, I am sorry that all happened..." She wasn't sure how he would take the apology, but she did want him to know that she didn't want him to suffer. She didn't want anyone to suffer.

[Ein]

The wemic stumbled visibly over the apology, shaking his head and opening his mouth, just to close it again a moment later. No one had ever apologized to him for anything before, not for the bruises or the lashings or the sickening stains on his coat as they used his body for their own purposes. He received no thank you, not one 'good job', nothing, just hate and fear around every corner. Every memory, every thought, assaulted him like a bullet from a gun and anyone could see the way his hands shook on the strip of leather holding his bag in place. He had to look away from her, feeling ten different emotions at once: shame, weakness, powerlessness, that kind of submission that he used to get paid for, it brought with it pain and agony, so he closed his eyes briefly, squeezing them shut against the noise.

He huffed a little laugh, trying to compose himself, and, sniffling a bit, he wiped his black feline nose with the back of one of his clawed hands. He shook his head.

"I... I don't blame you. You're right, free will is something that is not up to the Gods."

He tried to sound convinced, to sound humble and not accusatory but it was eating him alive inside, maintaining that mask of indifference. It cracked and broke as his voice wobbled like an absolute child before their teacher or a parent, a child who had done something terrible. But suddenly, his gaze was on her, fully, looking up at her with water in his eyes but he did not care, he needed to know, he needed answers for it all.

"Why me... though? What did I-I not pray enough, was I not strong enough, did I offend you or even one of the other Gods? Tell me what I did to deserve this. Tell me what I can do with it, other than rant and rave like a god damned lunatic- I was a boy god dammit."

His anguish was on full display now, his hands dropping to his sides, his shoulders sagging.

"I know that you have plans for us all, and I know that I need to... have faith but... why?"

[Xantara]

Xantara could tell that the apology had caught the wemic off guard, and she frowned slightly. She hated to think what had happened to him, though she had seen flashes of it, she didn't like pushing too far into other's minds. Though she could do it, she was always careful. The free will she spoke of - she wanted it to be true, and didn't want to influence too much.

When he finally spoke, of not blaming her, she sighed slightly. Things like this were her least favorite, she hated to see people hurt and suffering.

He looked up at her, with tears in his eyes that did not fall, his voice shaking as he asked her more questions. Why him? She bristled slightly, her temper flaring just a little. She didn't like to be accused of things either, and that frustrated her a little bit.

"You did not deserve it, no one does. We did not choose you to receive more pain than others." She paused for a moment as she watched him droop, his shoulders sagging and full of anguish. She softened a little again, what he went through must have been terrible...

"Sometimes things just happen." She knew that this would probably not comfort the wemic, but honestly she had no excuse. "You can take things into your own hands and move on, that is the only way to fix things." Though she was willing to help as well. "I can offer you help as well... but I'm not sure what you want me to do."

[Ein]

The wemic turned away, a sharp and sudden motion that flipped up his hair and he had to pause to reset it, running his clawed fingers through it gently before letting his hand fall to his side. He was quiet for some time, not looking at anything, completely focused on the storm that ran in his mind. What did he want her to do? It was all in the past, she couldn’t change anything for him, couldn’t go back in time. For a moment, he wondered if she could at least erase the memories that hurt him so much, that would at least alleviate the pain. But brain magic was dangerous, it could very well destroy his entire personality in the process of wiping his memory clean practically. He didn’t want that, some part of him wanted to believe that he was a good man. He didn’t hurt others because he had been hurt before, in a way, his painful past had made him more generous, more humble, more considerate. He needed the memories just as much as he wanted them to go away.

After a minute or so, the wemic sniffed and wiped his face again, running his hands up and down the bridge of his nose before dropping them again to his sides. When he turned back around finally, after what probably felt like forever, his eyes were still watery and his cheeks were a little red but he held his composure pretty well all things considering. He looked up at his Goddess.

“I’m sorry.” He started sheepishly. “I know there are way more people out there who need you much more than I do. It’s selfish of me to come in here and demand anything of you.”

He paused, sighing, his eyes drifting away again, ashamed. He knew that she could not help him, on some logical level he had always known that. But emotionally, he was absolutely destroyed and he needed someone, anyone, to at least try and piece him back together and if anyone had that power, it would be the Goddess of Earth, the holy entity that created him. He had been born because of her, had in some regard been made in the image of the gods- not that he seriously thought that any of the gods had a wemic form, why would they, wemics were such miserable creatures. But she was the Goddess he was most connected to, the one who created with light and love. Had she purposefully denied him that? Of course not and he knew, he knew, but it all just hurt so much all of the time. He wrapped his arms around himself, tapping a claw against one of his biceps.

“I guess I just… want to know why. If there is a reason for me to be here or if I should just…”

He paused, long and hard on this one.

“…go. You know?”

[Xantara]

Xantara watched silently as Ein turned away, she really wanted to make everything right. She hated people hurting, and it clawed at her. She watched as he pushed the hair back from his face, taking a deep breath herself to help steady her nerves. It was odd, she thought, that this had her so upset. She unfortunately took things too much to heart at times.

And honestly, she had thought about erasing his memories. It had been a fleeting thought, but she had been asked it before. She hadn't done it those times either, she wanted to help people but removing their memories was just pushing things a little too far. She was always afraid of making a person lose themselves if she did something like that. It was a delicate thing, messing with someone's memories. It wasn't something she was practiced at, so not something she jumped at.

A little sigh escaped her, but she refocused again when Ein finally turned back towards her. He had been crying, that much was noticeable. She really wished she could fix everything, but that was the way the world worked.

She frowned when he apologized, shaking her head gently. "There is no need to apologize, I promise. Everyone is welcome here, and they may ask anything they wish. I will not turn anyone away."

She watched as he seemed to drift away again, she stayed silent again and just watched him. She really didn't know what else to say.

She shook her head just a little again when he spoke once more. "There is always a reason for everyone, my dear. I'm sure you have helped others and been a blessing to someone.." A slight pause. "You don't have to go... do you need a place to stay?" Though they were officially priests quarters, she could offer him that much at least. She didn't want anyone out on the streets, or whatnot.

[Ein]

He smiled a bit and huffed like he was going to laugh. She didn't understand, he didn't mean 'go' as in to leave the temple and go home, when he talked about 'going' he meant in the most complete and irreversible way possible, to leave everything, to leave his house and his cats and his enemies and his friends, to leave it all in exchange for that never ending silence he so personally craved. The world was better off without him, was probably better off without wemics entirely, but even if the nomadic lion people were worth saving, that did not change his mind about things. He wasn't a wemic to them, he was monster, a bad omen. The world was better off without him in particular. But he didn't say that, his low-key suicidal nature always drove a wedge between him and people that he wanted to care about, it was a taboo topic that no one wanted to hear. So he didn't say it, didn't really explain, just skipped over the surface of it.

"No, I have.... a house, out by the west wall." He gestured lazily with one hand in the direction of the west wall of the city. But it was a short, someone limp sort of gesture and he very quickly returned his hand to an 'arms crossed' sort of position. "Guess I should be proud of that. We wemics often can't afford our own homes."

He trailed off, losing himself in a memory. He remembered a boy, a young wemic with a ruddy red brown coat and a dark mane just barely encircling his neck, who had been so excited. He'd been saving his money, bought a house and some furniture with enough space to hold his immediate family, who were part of the clan that Ein had been born in. He remembered the look on the boy's face as he held up the keys to his new place, his own place, away from the evils of the world, protected by a gate and moat. But the clan leader was rude and cross. He slapped the keys out of the boy's hand and insisted that wemics didn't need houses, they didn't need to live among men when they were so clearly not men. He called the boy foolish and naive and a waste and it was....

Ein sighed heavily, shaking his head. He wasn't a blessing to anybody. He was a freak and a weirdo who was not welcome in human society. He was too strange, too weird, too eccentric. He'd never fit in with other wemics and he'd never fit in with human kind. He was an outcast from all angles and though he'd come to the temple to try and sort this out, to maybe spin it around so that he could see it in a different light, maybe it would make more sense to him here. But as always, he asked for much too much. His shoulders sagged.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you and your temple... It's beautiful by the way, the statues are very detailed."

[Xantara]

Xantara nodded slightly again as the wemic spoke of his house, glad that he at least had a place to stay. Not that she wouldn't let him stay here, many people had stayed here in the past. She had the priests and priestesses rooms, but there were always open rooms for people in need.

She continued to watch him, though she was unsure what to say anymore. She really did want everyone happy, it was so hard for her to see others in pain.

When he spoke again, she shook her head gently. "No, you did not disturb me or my temple. And thank you." She smiled and looked around the temple again, her eyes running over a couple of the statues, before she looked at Ein again. "I try hard to keep this place welcoming and open, and I'm actually very glad that you came here."

She paused for a moment again before she decided something. Vanishing for a moment, she reappeared next to the wemic, looking up at him and holding her hand out. In it was a small, golden pendant with a green jewel in the middle. "Take this, please." Though it seemed a simple gift, it would give the wemic luck that he would not have had before.

[Ein]

The wemic drew something of a sad smile when she, once again, insisted that he was not disturbing anyone, that she was glad that he was here. No one had ever been glad to see him, except maybe his cats. That was probably why he loved cats, why he collected them as he did. The logical side of his brain said that they were necessary for his work as a rat catcher, but the more emotional and probably more truthful side of things was that he didn’t like to be alone. He didn’t like living a life where he didn’t matter, where he wasn’t loved by someone or something, and the cats alleviated this. They adored him, not just because he gave them food and water but because he loved them too, gave them soft places to sleep and a house that they could call home, he welcomed them, loved on them, gave them all that they could want, they were important in him, and truthfully he was probably important in them. Most of them were strays, they’d have probably died on the streets without him. In his cats, he meant something, and he sort of felt the same way in front of his Goddess. That maybe he wasn’t important to humans, not important to other wemics, not important to the nobleman, not important to a lowly farmer, not important to the king or his children, not important to the other nations nearby. But maybe, in here, surrounded by beautiful stone women, maybe he meant something here. He wasn’t a stain on her clothes or a piece of dust to be flicked away. She wanted to help him, and that made him important, even though it was in a small way, it was something. He wiped his face again.

He nodded, his gaze falling to the floor for a minute before he looked up again, still sad but still smiling lightly, his elongated fangs poking out of his mouth a bit. “Thank you. I’m glad to have come here as well. I thought I wanted something physical, some concrete answer to all of my questions but… I learned something else instead and I guess that will have to do.”

He looked up again, but was surprised when he saw nothing but an empty hallway. It startled him for a moment and his brow furrowed in confusion, but then he looked to his side and she was there again. Though he was a little shocked by the display of magic, he liked seeing it, liked to be reminded that the Gods were not only real men and women but they were even beyond that sort of thing, beyond using doors and houses, beyond eating simple meals or counting the hours between light and dark. They were light and darkness, in themselves and it was honestly soothing to remember that. To remember that, even though she hadn’t been there physically to help him win his battles, she was here now in this big human city, and she wanted to help him, would help him in the future. It was nice to know that he was as he assumed: not alone in this city.

Looking down at the pendant that she held out in her hands, he felt a little nervous, terribly undeserving of even this small trinket. But her eyes were earnest and her voice practically begged him and, passive and unable to defy anything of authority, he gently scooped up the trinket in one of his clawed hands, holding it up in the light, examining it. It was gorgeous, simple in design with its gold facing and a beautiful green gem in the center. But around the edges were flowering vines and leaves, as though the gold itself was growing around the gem, a symbol of life itself. He took a breath, sort of taken aback by the small gift. But then he slipped the chain over his head and looked down at where it hung neatly in the middle of his chest. It was warm, he assumed just because it had been in the hands of a goddess, but if he was honest with himself, the warmth was a more tingling sort of feeling that spread down his arms and legs, along his back and his lower torso, all the way to his tufted tail. And then it settled just as quickly and mysteriously as it had come. He looked up.

“I… it’s beautiful. Thank you… I..” He paused, looking for enough words to express his gratitude. He ended up kneeling again, bending his front paw inward, tucking it under his chest, while the other simply bent and held his weight. His eyes, watery again, stayed respectfully down, focusing on the floor at his feet. He sniffed again and his sad grin returned. “I’ve never been given a gift before. I feel like I don’t deserve it.”

“

[Xantara]

Xantara wished she could help the wemic more, even the small gesture of the necklace didn't feel like enough. When he took it from her and examined it, a deeper smile crossed her face. She was glad that he was accepting of it, even though she could tell he was nervous about taking it. He held it up and looked at it, which made her even happier. She watched him slip it over his head, nodding slightly as he thanked her.

When he said that no one had ever given a gift before, her smile faltered for a moment, before it came back again.

"You do, I promise you. It will help you as well, it's lucky." That was perhaps a little bit of an understatement, lucky. It would push things more his way, whatever his wishes were. But it wouldn't just force things exactly, but just bend things around him.

"I hope that this is enough of an apology, I really do want you to be happy. I want all beings happy." She smiled at him again, glancing at the necklace hanging around his neck. It was beautiful indeed, some of her finest work. She did enjoy helping others, and she had given these trinkets away before and it always made things better.