Once the fire was going, the warmth was comforting. The orange light danced over both their faces. It made Scarlett's almost look comforting, if he didn't know she was a vampire. But he couldn't talk about being human, or something that was completely harmless. He wasn't. He wasn't... He didn't have an appetite anymore and left his rucksack to lay on the ground, lonely. Long moments passed between them, and Jonas had the right of mind to sit back against a fallen tree near the fire. Through his clothing he could feel the moist bark press up against his back. The dark was closing in around them.
"There were four others with me in the tomb." He said, out of the blue, his voice quiet. "Three of them sell-swords we had hired to protect us along the way. In our religion, to enter the tomb was sacrilegious. But we needed to know if our gods were dead, if they had abandoned us."
"We were considered heathens at best. They used to say the gods were sleeping, that they had spent so much time in the world, even their immortal bodies could not take the burdens of humanity anymore. It's said that once we knew how to carry our own, that they'd be back to ease our suffering."
"Sala'ful...The god of Mercy." He trailed off, and cleared his throat. "I believed foolishly that mercy would be taken on us. But gods see it differently than we do."