[center][@Seraphin][/center]

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[center][h1][color=92278f]Old Habits[/color][/h1][/center] 
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[indent]Devlin let go of viewing the suffering behind Ren’s eyes in order to pay closer attention to his furthering behavior. She was watching attentively, in the way a young child may observe their parent go about household chores, and she couldn’t help but wonder what sort of evil had inflicted the wounds that caused many of his scars, such as the odd placement of those about his mouth. His markings of terrors past were curious to say the least. After surmising various possible reasons, the only real answers she was willing to give herself were those of sinister nature, and the more she watched him, the more she studied his every move, the more she understood the tortures he must have endured in his life. Her heart began to throb for him.     

It was curios though… the sensation she felt when Ren slipped the monks garment over his head; as the fabric fell down about his body she found herself feeling a sense of loss. Not that she wanted to continue viewing the scars that laden his body – no, that wasn’t it, it was something more…. For a moment - and be it only for a fleeting moment - her breath became elated, as though the air in the room had thinned, while the skin about her nipples tightened. Her contemplations on the possible carnal influences responsible for this reaction, were quickly abandoned when Ren handed her some monks clothing to suit up in as well – 

She had already supposed the reason why Ren was dressing up like a monk, and therefor only perused the note before letting it fall from her grip – she was instantly amused by the prospect, knowing full well that the positive minded young man had overlooked one small detail: This monks outfit was not going to hide the weapons on her back, weapons she was not any time soon about to relinquish, and weapons she doubted would be donned by any monk, at least not monks of this particular calibre. 

Was there even a time she had laughed in her life? Probably, as a child. The sensation was frightening. It made her shutter. She clenched her fists to fight off the almost uncontrollable impulse, and then it was gone again. Thankfully. She felt relieved as she set the clothing aside and presenting him a look of playful derision for his seemingly naïve antics. 

When Ren went to the altar, supposedly to ask this deity of his for help, Devlin leaned her head to one side with question. Her faith in any god had long since perished, and for a man who had apparently been through as much as he, she wondered why he’d even bother. There will be no help from above. Oddly enough, her negative thoughts on the matter appeared to have an effect on him. It was almost as if he suddenly had a change of heart, or maybe just second thoughts for now, but she vaguely smiled along with his laughter, regardless of his reasoning for the change of mind. 

The mild smile ran away when Ren then went on to display his gratitude for her earlier actions, specifically the point where he expressed the disheartening thought that he hadn’t before found himself worthy of love. She grit her teeth at the thought of his prior acceptance for the matter. Her expression fell flat once more, and remained as such until he handed her the parchment beholding the question she wished he hadn’t asked….

She held the parchment in her lap and stared at the words silently for quite some time while regretting each possible response.  Then, as she lifted her eyes to his, she recalled the words Mada had told her in the recent dream she had with the dragon: 

[i]The puppet master cannot be slain by cutting the strings of the puppet.[/i]

Never in the two years of knowing Mada had he said anything that didn’t have some variety of significant meaning and, though Mada had never visited her dreams before, those words were something he had told her on numerous prior occasions. The meaning behind the statement was obvious, and directly related to Mada’s unfailing belief that a single entity, at the least a tight group of entities, was responsible for the rise of monsters attacks over the last couple of years…. Symbolic of a puppet master pulling the strings of his puppets.

“That’s why I’m here….” She uttered the words barely audible to even herself, while raising the faint glow of her eyes to Ren’s. Seeing his face again in that instant – the scars that lines his mouth – she was instantly struck with a renewed sense of empathy for the man. It was his eyes, his kindness, the purity of his heart. No… She couldn’t deny him the truth. Despite everything she knew about this world, she trusted him. But more than that, she liked him.

Raising one hand she reached slowly into the opening of his habit and brushed away a fall of hair from his eye, before gently running her finger affectionately down the contours of his cheek. 

 “Don’t worry about my clothes.” She said, faking a smile and returning her hand to her lap. “I doubt those robes will conceal my weapons, and besides,” She added, turning her gaze momentarily as if to regard a distant view, “I’m not here to hide, Ren.” She picked up the monks clothing and placed them on his leg. “The stench of my affliction is strong in this town…. My nemesis is near. But you should stay. You’ll be safe in this room, and I don’t want you to be hurt anymore….” Leaning in, she placed a kissed upon the scars above his lip, then whispered close; “Thank you for showing me beauty.” 

With that, Devlin rose to her feet and started walking toward the door.[/indent]