Pity. It disgustedly marred Aoren's brightness, the slosh of pink-violet mess decorating the outer edges, slinking towards his own. He sucked his teeth, desperate to keep his boiling offense bottled, not eager to start anything with the other seer. There wasn't, he noticed, any sense of curiosity, or any interest strong enough in the man's aura. He was confused, not entirely sure what Aoren had seen that provoked such pity, but managed to stifle any curiosity.
It was almost annoying.
"No," he thought, his lips cementing into a tight lined frowned, "It is annoying." Who was he, this stranger, to pity him? Thomas was sure he would have seen a flare of magic from the gnosis, a white fan-feathered piece of faith, something if the Sight had been triggered. "Thank you for the information, Aoren," Thomas began, his tone iced with harsh formality, "I wonder --."
He had only seen one etheafal before, and even under the chains of slavery he'd been too beautiful to describe. Unearthly, a treasure confined forever to the bowels of the Citadel, to the whims of the undead nuit. He'd remember seeing him shift from the disgusting phase of mortality into the beauty of a fallen divine. Thomas had been shut up then too.
The shock of her, something so instinctively perfect, distracted his spell, forcing his world around mundane and boring -- aside her, obviously. She sparkled marble, delicate and nobile, impressive in her form. She was shorter than him, Schon, he remembered, had been quite taller; he wondered if the etheafal had any similiarities beside ther god-given beauty. It was amazing too, how simply out of place she seemed, how the world around her became so much less.
He nodded simply at Aoren's goodbye, stuck dumb momentairly. "A pleasure, Yra," he paused, a stirring in his stomach as he tried to cast again, the shock waning, "I suppose you wouldn't mind telling us," he motioned to the Myrian and himself, "About your experiences here? About the city and it's peoples?" His voice was much warmer now, less intense, less threatened. He shot a glance at Ayatah, "And you? I forgot to ask why you left the jungles, for here of all places?" Thomas wondered at her, not entirely sure how he placed the Myrian. She was very quite. And Sahova had taught him early on those were the ones you watched most carefully.