He was in his own environment, now.
At least, that was what those repressed instincts told him, not that he put much stock in instinct, no matter how powerful. Instinct told him a lot of things...but they were mostly things he was trying to avoid, like the superiority complex of his race that told him other beings were unworthy of anything less than slaughter.
Just like how he was unworthy of anything less than slaughter, according to his own bastard race. Weakness, not even the slightest hint of weakness, was not to be tolerated. Tolerate it, allow it, and you might as well just give it the free reign to breed and cripple centuries of culling, of strengthening precious bloodlines. It took only a single weak link to sever a chain, after all, and for this reason, fighting and even killing was practically an integral part of Cerenai society as they were encouraged to always test each other and, if there was an opening, conquer each other. Even mating rituals involved a fight, and even those could be violent and bloodyâ€"and not always consentual. But such was life, and what didn't kill you only made you stronger, right?
Sure, if you weren't considered a weak link marked for death.
Leaning against a tree, Kiade pulled absently at his robe to adjust it, and gazed out musingly at the village that lay ahead. It was an almost frightening thought to look back and wonder what would have happened if he hadn't been attacked and brutalized by those two Cerenai he had considered allies. If he had just been allowed to go on living his life the way he had...he would have been no different from them; just another killing machine. He still didn't know what, exactly, had stopped them from finally cutting his throat and bleeding him like a pig, nor why they'd just suddenly left him like that, nor why he'd survived afterward or how he'd ended up here, in this world. He should have died, if not by their hands, by blood loss alone. But he'd made it. And he still bore the scars from their claws that criss-crossed his arms and torso in an eternal mark of shame. Shame for what he'd once been and could have still been. And shame for what he'd endured.
And now, after all those years, here he was, standing at the threshold of a village that reeked of he very things Kiade had left behind, the veyr things he felt shame for. And yet, he felt dangerously attracted to it. It was familiar. It felt so much more familiar and less foreign than those human places, and in that way, he was both disgusted by it and comforted it.
Well...not really disgusted by it. Moreso at himself, for letting instinct take over long enough to drag him here.
But...it wasn't really harmful if he was just here and didn't do anything, right?
Unless...unless there were, somehow, others of his kind here, and that was the reason for this sense of familiarity...
A shiver ran through him, an almost imperceiveable contracting and relaxing of muscles, even though he knew that thought was silly.
It was the sight of a woman that pulled him lazily from his thoughts, a seemingly flawless beauty that seemed to come from nowhereâ€"well, at least to him; he hadn't been paying much attentionâ€"and address something on the ground. Kiade blinked, and watched as a man rose to his feet. And then blinked again. There was an unnatural look to himâ€"there was metal in his skin. Well...that was certainly unusual. Never mind that Kiade was no plain sight himself, what with his swirling turquoise eyes, red and blue tipped shoulder length blonde hair, pointed ears, nails, and teeth, heavy robe. Still, metal? It instantly piqued Kiade's curiosity, and without even meaning to, he found himself staring.
But Cerenai, for all their ferocity, were not without curiosity and appreciation for all things unusual or beautiful. It was just one strange trait of their race.
[ooo, apologies for the bad post; I suck at intros! XD]
