Khloros stood for a time, close to Hasira, as if lost in his own thoughts. If someone had happened upon them, perhaps they might think them to be old friends, standing quietly and sharing a peaceful moment.

At length, he gave Hasira an almost gentle nuzzle at the side of his neck, and then stepped away.

"Time will tell," he said softly, and the pity almost... almost, showed in his voice.

All the pain in this world. I can only hope to begin to relieve it.

There was still one thing left unsettled--the reason he'd come, in fact. Khloros ambled away, nearly entirely out of the little coliseum, then paused and looked back. He regarded Hasira with his glowing eyes, his rancid odor of putrefaction faded by the few yards he'd put between them.

"Leave the malnourished rodent. She will be one of mine," he said.

She wouldn't be. He'd leave her alone. His hope was that by claiming her so, Hasira would ignore her as well. His mind briefly flicked over a jittering slide-show of blinking thoughts--the meaning of "god," the method of attaining godhood, what it meant to be a god, whether he was a god simply by virtue of others believing so. But he pushed the thoughts aside, gently, and turned his attention back to the focus of his gaze, the red stag.

He wondered if Hasira would sicken. If physical illness, madness, death, might take him.

Or if he would find strength, and overcome; and then seek, perhaps, the things that Khloros had suggested.

It was all he could do, really; a nudge in the right direction. It was his goal to remove pain from the others, and his hope that either death or newfound courage would drive Hasira's pain away.

But in the end, it might not; and as Khloros eyed him and turned away, he realized that he did not really care.

He had done, now, what he could. Offered what aid he had to provide. What happened next would be up to the stag.

And unless Hasira had questions for him, he had no reason to linger here.

________________

BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

@Hasira (if Hasira has questions, or anything, Khlor will stay and talk, if not I can edit in an exit!)

For a while the God didn't move, he simply stood side by side with the deer who was trying to compress his fear. Then finally after a soft nuzzle at his neck the stallion started to step away, stating that time would tell. It frightened him not knowing when exactly this test would show up or if it ever would. There was something strangely humbling about it. The Lord trembled in his fur but kept his eyes shut together tightly.

It wasn't until he knew that the Plague God was far away that the slate gray orbs opened once more. "She is yours." Why did Carrie even matter? Was her time out? Not that Hasira particularly cared. Ever since day one she'd only be a drain on resources and too weak to even think for herself. If he Plague God claimed her then he would take the child he'd made with her and train it himself. That one would not take after his mother.

The stag had no more questions, he only felt relief that he finally would be left alone. For now, the God was done toying with him and after he'd finally wandered away Hasira lay down next to the throne to watch his son for longer. His head lowered and his eyes closed as he let out an exhale.

He began to shiver.

-exit-

______________________________________

"This is how I talk!"
This is how I think!

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@Khloros
No questions here.
5/10