Sarces dark and chaotic aura was at it's greatest as he walked through the forest that he had often drifted to during his most painful times. His soul was corrupt and broken and the Darkness was leaking to the lands that he walked up. This place, this land, was his sanctuary. He had never been disturbed. He never would.

His eyes were constantly moving in all directions, searching the landscape for animals and figures. He knew there would be none yet his dark nature caused him to be wary and cautious of all the possibilities. His footsteps sounded light and quiet as he walked through the trees, breathing quietly under the veil that covered this forest in a mist.

His mind was not set on the landscape nor was it set on where he was travelling to. His mind was pondering over the questions that had never been answered. Even the God of Darkness could stop his thoughts of philosophy and ethics. The sound of such a phrase seemed almost laughable. The God of Darkness, he who had so much power could not even stop but a futile figure such a himself from longing for the answers to life's questions.

Questions upon questions relayed through his mind, searching for an answer to even one of the questions and yet he found none. He debated the answers that came to his head and yet they did not seem to fit. It was almost as if his mind were a jigsaw puzzle, trying to fit the pieces into the correct place to fill a picture. That picture was life and the pieces were all the questions that were unanswered in his mind.

Even though Sarce was in constant thought about the questions, he was wary of his surroundings and as he stepped forward towards a clearing, he saw an animal chewing the delicate blades of grass that were so uncommon in this land. Sarce, almost in an instant, discarded his thoughts and drew his scimitar from his belt. He rushed forward but the sound of his footsteps were as quiet as they were when he walked through the lands.

As he came close to the animal, Sarce lifted his scimitar high and twisted it at an angle. His thrust the sword downwards onto the head of the animal and blood covered Sarces face as the animal fell to the floor in a pathetic lump by his feet. The animal was a deer. Sarce contemplated using the animal as his resources but decided against it. He did not need food nor did he need water. It was the dominance that the God of Darkness had over him that would force Sarce to travel back to his home.

Damien moved silently through the forest, cursing under his breath at the lack of visibility the thick fog around the forest provided. He was sure that he had been going around in circles since he had entered this wretched forest in the first place.

The Rauko paused for a while, hearing a soft thump. It sounded like a falling body--an animal perhaps. Nevertheless, the message was clear. He was not the only one in the forest.

Damien followed the sound and noticed that the nearer he came to it, the thinner the fog was. Soon, he was able to see his surroundings. He was in a clearing--a swamp of some sort--and in the middle of it lay a dead deer, its blood spilled over the scarce grass. Next to it was a man, holding a bloodied sword.

A fallen angel? thought the Rauko.

Damien placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, walking silently over to the man. Once he was directly behind the man, he decided to speak.

"This seems like a strange place to go hunting," he commented.

Nathaniel had to note to hismelf that he utterly hated swamps. As he trudged through the Swamp of Shadow's own collective darkness, he could feel his inner strength growing but his outer resolve dwindling. He had been trudging through the swamp's shadowy breadth for more than a couple days, and by now he could feel himself aching in a way he had never felt before.

It wasn't the fact that he was easily pained, or that he was a weakling in any evident way. But for these past few days of travel, he had been exhausting his inner reserves. The Swamp of Shadows had proven the perfect place to practice and meditate, and had been an ideal location in which to try at his newest studies. But with every new day that he had to move on for fear that he would deplete the area's resources, he could feel his very body screaming out for him to pause. But he ignored its physical pain and went on for his very mind, and with every moment that his mind told him to move on, his body contested just a little more.

Still, he ignored it.

Having grown particularly adept at numbing physical pain, Nathaniel had trudged on for days on end with little sleep and little sustenance. It was by the time that this soreness actually began to affect him that he heard the gentle thud - the same gentle thud that Damien had at the same particular time. He paused a moment in attempt to listen and to identify the source, and by the time he chose to linger quietly, Damien had began to speak.

Instead of intruding immediately, he listened quietly to their words, knowing that his figure would pose little threat if they failed to see him right away. He could make out their figures just a few yards in the distance, and there was a crumpled sillhouette at one of the standing figure's feet, lifeless in all aspect.

He remained there, still and quiet, yet in a place they could easily spot him if they chose to look well enough. He chose not to intrude upon their conversation, however, and instead let them speak as much as would satisfy them before they chose to outwardly acknowledge his presence.

He could have, also, just passed them by, but that would have portrayed him as a rather conspicuously odd presence, or even more of a threat than he might seem to them now. So he waited, and regarded them, his arms folded over his chest, and his body rested wearily against a slumping tree. If they took his body language as any indication as to what he hoped to impress upon them, they would see him as no immediate threat and take note of his presence in their own due time.

Sarce could feel the presence of figures. It was strange to feel one presence but it was even strange to sense a further presence at the same point. Sarce knew that one presence was close, almost a threat to him, whilst the other was at a distance and tired. He knew that the closer presence would notice him.

As Sarce slowly began to cut the skin of the deer, he could sense the presence coming towards him. Sarce decided to act upon impulse, almost ignorning the disturbance and continuing with his actions until the presence either decided to speak, attack or ignore him. He preferred the latter option.

And yet to no avail did the presence ignore him, it had decided to watch him from a short distance and it seemed as though he would have to battle until the presence finally spoke in a male voice.

"This seems like a strange place to go hunting."

The voice was dark and had a tone of humor to it. Sarce struggled to reply as he could feel a different presence coming towards him. He cursed under his breath, perhaps it was an ambush, he did not know.

"Hunting is what I am good at. I have a skill and I will not stop because of my surroundings." Sarce said, laughing at his mocking words. "I apologise, I do not mean to be so rude. I am Sarce and you are?" He said.

As he spoke the words, the presence that was so far away had came so close. He didn't want to stop his actions and so he continued with his skinning of the deer and looked at the man. Tall and almost muscular, he had a dark aura that seemed to emanate from his body.

When he looked at the man, he could see a silhouette towards the woods, watching both himself and the man with intent. The presence personified no threat and yet Sarce did not like knowing that there was a chance of threat and he beckoned the presence to come forward.

"I see that you are watching me. Would you care not for a better view? Please, come forward and enjoy the company that I have." Sarce said.