Rogue

Part 2: Chapter 24: Grim Game

Of course, the other event that transpired that his mind was gravitating towards was Mehr's death and the fact that the little deviant had gone through so much and had given up even her life to save him and his babies. At the thought, Rogue stilled in his path and silently cursed himself. How could he have forgotten? Mehr deserved to be honored just as Nanaba did. She died protecting him as well. Quickly, his eyes searched below on the forest floor for more flowers – he didn't want to return to the castle for more tulips in fear he would get caught digging into the flower beds, after all he had unintentionally tore them up when he spotted a small vole running around in the landscape that he unexpectedly felt the need to catch. To his luck, his eyes spotted an iris plant sporting two purple and white blooms nestled between two boulders. Deciding that it fit and suit Mehr, Rogue bent over to retrieve the iris, finding himself transfixed at the detail in the flowers' petals before getting up to continue on his trek to the memorial garden. The other, and most troubling thing that he was musing over was just what happened when he was freed from Ansgar's clutches. What on earth was that scream that had rose from his chest? What had it done? Vaguely, he remembered a foggy image of the same happening back in the forest with the Female Titan. Like that time, the titans came from almost everywhere – stopping what they were doing to charge at his enemy. Was he really giving all of the titans orders to charge? The beasts were moving more unnaturally than he had ever witnessed them, some were twisting around so sharply that he wondered why their spines had simply not snapped with the force. Stranger yet, they began to run normally much like he himself did. To Rogue, the scene was frightening and he was struggling with the fact that such a thing happened the way that it did. Was it possible that there was something more to his talent that he and the Scouts were unaware of?

Rogue whined quietly at his misfortune. His mind was a mess.

Seeing the border to the memorial garden, Rogue thought it best to put away his worries and focus on paying his respects and being courteous and quiet to those who were aiming to honor the fallen as well upon his entry. Holding his breath, Rogue carefully and gently parted the tree branches from his face and entered the memorial garden. The behemoth halted in his steps, confused at what was before him. Like always, the clearing was peaceful looking and laced with roses in a variety of colors and the stream that cut through the garden sparkled in the sunlight. However, what he had stumbled across was quite unexpected. The memorial garden was nearly void of life. The Scouts that he had been expecting to be paying their respects were absent – all except for one. On the left near the area that had been set aside to create new memorials, was Connie. Rogue's brow lifted, completely puzzled. The short teen was seated upon his knees and slouched over as he looked at two fresh markers. Even from where he stood, Rogue could smell and sense that Connie was deeply upset and was the exact opposite of his usual dim-witted but fun-loving self. He swallowed. Why was Connie in the garden? Had the boy lost someone dear to him too?

Rogue gulped yet again as he motioned toward one of the rock faces that surrounded most of the area with the intention of selecting two good stones he planned to use to honor Nanaba and Mehr, his green eyes still glancing behind him to stare at the teen. His ears sank, Rogue growing more uneasy as the seconds passed. As heavy as his footfalls were that always signaled his arrival on scene, Connie had not turned to acknowledge his presence. The fact made Rogue shutter. Like the other Scouts that may have come to honor others, their losses had ultimately been because of him. Was Connie aware of this? Could Connie be mad at him? Slowly, Rogue turned to continue his long stare at the male, nearly dropping the rocks that he had chosen onto his foot. He found himself biting his tongue, something that would have looked ridiculous if anyone was watching him. The need to nurture flowed once again through his veins as he continued to stare. Knowing that he was the cause of whatever had occurred, Rogue knew it best to go and console the teen. After all, he would probably feel horrible later if he chose to ignore the boy. Besides, where he needed to make his own memorials was right next to Connie.