Andlátkyn; Vandr Sanses unin Alagaësia

What the Fuck Do I Call This Chapter

Horror was glad to leave that mess behind, rolling his shoulders as he gazed up into the azure sky, sighing contentedly.
The spirits, his spirits, were wandering the tents- no longer like lost Souls, but with purpose. They knew where they were going, and knew what they were doing.

He smiled to himself, knowing he had his part in helping the Varden, no matter how small it was.
Subtle uses of magic here and there, to lessen the pain of one human's injury, to make plants grow larger, to calm the often stressed animals in the fields, to ease the high tension in some folks, small things.
Yet the difference made itself clear.

He strode through the camp, a sense of calm filling him despite the anxiety of those surrounding him. He was safe here. There was food, after all- and more to help. He was interested in helping those less fortunate. He would not seek them out, though. They will have to come to him.

He could sense the other monster approaching from behind via several spirits warning him, but decided to let the other be. Why should he care if someone was following if said stalker did nothing more?
The observer would have to say something to be worth a conversation.

Reaching his dark tent, Horror paused. Maybe he was more curious than he'd admit. Why not ask?
"What do you want?"

"..How did you know..?" The other asked, surprised as he stepped out of the shadows he'd been in.
Horror shrugged, not interested in explaining himself.
"Why does it matter? You're the one staring from the shadows."
"I thought you had one working light." The other explained bluntly, gesturing to the right side of his face.

Horror shrugged, not offended. "One of many things that were changed in Ellesméra."
"Right. Elf homeland."
"No, elves originally came from across the sea, just like humans and Urgals."
"Okay."

The strange skeleton studied him, a strange teal gleam flashing across the black marks on his face.
"What were you doing in that leader's tent anyway? You're not exactly the leader of anything."

"What were you doing staring at Nasuada's pavilion while a meeting was taking place?" Horror fired back, slightly suspicious.

"I'm sorry, I just don't trust the Destroyer of AU's or the terror of the Multiverse. Dream's naive, even I know that. And that Abyss can be really easy to trick, seen it myself. I don't trust any of you."

"Then don't." Horror sighed. "I don't care who you trust, just don't let it get in the way of everyone's goal. Got it? Kill Galbatorix first, worry about the Multiverse later." He made to enter his tent again, but Ghost stopped him.

The other spoke again.
"Why would you even care? What I make of it, the conditions this Galbatorix has created are perfect for your kind."

Horror hesitated, turning back around.
"My kind? Now what's that supposed to mean?" He asked, a hint of warning in his tone. Voices, inaudible to the other, started clamoring for his attention.

The stranger's black hood fluffed up, notes of pink flashing among the dark fur. "Murderers. I'm not an idiot, I know you kill. I don't want to have anything to do with it, but I know you and I don't view killing the same way. I don't enjoy it at all."

Horror straightened, taking a step forward.
"You're right; we don't share the same views in killing. But you seem to think I, unlike you, enjoy it. Sure, maybe I get a little satisfaction in some of those shitty things I've killed that don't deserve the title of monster or human. Sure, I kill some when I can't stand the sight of their incredibly unbearable existence. But you make it sound like I consider murder to be some kind of fucked up hobby. News flash: I don't."

He sighed, rubbing the bone between his sockets. "Just because my morals aren't so high and mighty as your pacifism doesn't mean I'm a war dog of some kind. I have my reasons for what I did and still do, and unless you're willing to accept that along with who I am, I suggest you fuck off before one of my more morally disabled friends decide to kill you." He explained coldly, staring at the figures surrounding the stranger menacingly as the other stood far too relaxed given his predicament.