Outside the moon glowed, currently it was at about half its normal width. Still it shrank, much to the disappointment of Jweean. Any moment now he knew what would come, years of wandering through the desert with nothing to watch but the shifting sand, and the changing moon had told him something. They'd be back. Of course by they he meant the voices. As if thrilled by their names being thought about the first choing voice emerged, its willowy voice held the undertone of a crackling fire.
Dreaded moon, and look at this dreadful little city, nothing good to burn!! Not a flame in sight, what about we change that Jwee?
Jweean fought it for a moment, before realizing how odd it would be to tell someone he was arguing with his own head.
The relaxed, slightly defeated, look in his eyes was soon replaced by a pinpoint of light, a large one, that seemed to stab into his very mind. One that spoke of untold atrocities seen, and of course of its owners lunacy. These eyes were the kind that told you something was not right with the individaul.
"To cold it tis. Rather cold tonight. Yes, your right, always are."
Even through the thick cape he was wearing he still felt a chill run up and down his spine. Yet the shiver that resulted wasn't one from what he felt as cold, no it was much more from anticipation. Things to hear, and oh so much to set aflame! Of course it had been years since he had burned anything but himself. Maybe that would change tonight. Hopefully it would change soon. The voice whispered in his head. Jweean was to busy scratchign at his sand filled scalp to notice. His long clawed hands resembled those of a wolf as the moon was covered by a cloud, but shifted back to the normal delicate fingers found in his race. Except the nails were slightly longer, and seemed to have been purposelly filed to straight edged points.
Realizing that sandstorms were dangerous, an one was likely coming he ducked into a nearby tavern. Thesign above had a phonix like creature dipping its head into a foaming tankard, smoke curling away from the sign. Saddened by the lack of a fireplace, he let out a half giggle-sob. His way of moaning when he shared his mind with its other occupants. It sounded more like the sound a ghost would make, much more that then what it truly was. If anyone looked sidelong at the 'young' elf they might glimpse a deformed shadow, one that flickered like the flames that consumed Jweean's mind. Yet when one looked again they seemed to shrink and disappear, the only abnormal pieces of the elf being his long furry ears, nothing out of the ordinary. At least not on this earth, where everything was odd, and the normal was often the most odd.
Lifting his finger up in the dul lantern light he let out another round of chuckles. To his eyes it seemed his hands were covered in a flickering glow, red, orange, and yellow merged together into a flickering flame, that raced across his skin. The voices hopeful hallucinations nothing more. Nothing less.
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