[h2]Exekiel[/h2]
"Thank you, Exalted One." As unworthy as the human race was to receive such blessings, Ezekiel was glad to be in the god's favor. He listened to him talk about chiding the other, and something in his mind suddenly clicked. The father of the church before him acted a lot like Draken. The man held a hotter temper, as one needs for a child reckless enough to get his own eye forcibly removed; but the similarities outweighed the differences. He wondered if they had always been like that, or received divine influence.

Looking at Nexias, it wouldn't be surprising if he was related to Draken. That was a completely different conversation, however, and he didn't exactly care to find out the younger dragon's exact heritage. He never held the highest opinion of Nexias, and gave the utmost respect to him mostly since he was his Lord's guest. Not that he would ever think of acting out against such a holy being. The dragon did have a way of testing his patience, but then again, so did his own children. 

Was there anywhere he wanted to be in particular? For starters, anywhere out of the immediate area. Ezekiel wasn't exactly nervous, but being surrounded by agitated beings more powerful than he could ever imagine didn't seem like the ideal situation for a human. "I'd planned to observe for the day. Maybe I can manage to get my bearings, finally. Thank you for taking the time to come here with me." He explained, giving a short bow. As he spoke, he heard the conversation between the elders and the dragon turn to eating the dragon's guests. He was quietly relieved that his god had given him a way to leave this mess politely. 

As the priest stood up, he noticed there was a dragon staring at them. Well, not [i]them[/i] so much as Draken himself. That was his child, yes? Even with his horrible eyesight, the two headed-dragon was hard to forget. He wondered if that meant anything of significance, if it was an omen of some sort. If he had noticed the child, Draken must have had some idea she was there. Either way, there was only one way out of the clearing, and she was in it. They would run into her. "Should we wait for her to approach?"

[h2]Milhoro[/h2]
Every human that was once present in the market was dead. Milhoro had only noticed this after feeling the ground shake from a building collapsing, sending him out of his reverie of impalement. He would need to get back home soon. He assumed his ward had been thrown into chaos once more since he had been gone. It couldn't have taken more than a year for his delicate structure to crumble. The thought saddened him, and infuriated him. He didn't have the time for another 300 year conquest of his people. His people. Even if they didn't realize it at the moment, wherever they were, they were his brothers and sisters and they [i]would[/i] accept him as their monarch once more, even if it meant some demons had to die to remember that fact. 

The break from the action was welcome, but if nothing else, humans were adaptable. Soon they would be back, in heavier armor than before. Hell, maybe they even had equipment forged from the bones of dragons. Wouldn't that be a challenge. Milhoro finally turned his attention to the feasting demon. He seemed interested only in the present, and so far in his observations only acted in animalistic ways. Was he feral? No, the hunters couldn't be stupid enough to keep a feral demon. They provided nothing, in return for taking everything. Demons, after all, weren't cheap to hold. Milhoro set to preparing traps for any humans wanting a second round, mostly in the form of corroding landmarks to a point of delicate balance. While it was possible, he was hoping other demons wouldn't set it off beforehand. 

Finally, the demon turned his attention to the other, and took a few gentle steps towards him. He didn't need to get too close. "Dear brother, what are you called? Your massacre was wonderful."