Flagoon was sitting up, staring towards the east at the horizon, the sun was quarter-point in the sky as Sylphiel woke, stomach growling. Stew was simmering in a pot over the awakened fire and Flagoon had made an attempt to rinse out his hair and wash off his arms and face. His robes were soaked, but he didn't seem to care about that. As Sylphiel sat up, he looked towards her, eyes blank of emotion, simply looking at her as if she were part of the scenery.

Her brows drew together. She hadn't put stew on before going to sleep, but there it was. After returning Flagoon's look for a moment, the Holy Tree turned away again, staring off into the distance as if it were just a place to be looking and it really didn't matter what direction it happened to be in. Shaking her head, Sylphiel guessed that this meant that Flagoon wouldn't be too difficult to handle, and by the looks of her tidied camp, had some notion of human concerns. Reaching over to the pot, Sylphiel stirred it and took a taste. It was bland, absolutely no spices in it, not even salt, but it was better than nothing. It looked to have been made with some of the supplies she'd brought hacked into smaller pieces and thrown into boiling water with the broth she'd made the night before.

Looking towards Flagoon again, Sylphiel reached over and touched his shoulder. "Have you eaten?" she asked and got that flat stare again, "Do you even understand me?"

"Yes."

That was all she got out of him, and he looked away again. Not quickly, or reluctantly, just turned his head as if the conversation were over and he was going back to more important things... like basking in the sun. Well, to a tree, perhaps that was important. That may have been why he'd washed himself somewhat. Dirty leaves couldn't collect sunlight. Turning her own attention back to the stew, Sylphiel served some for herself in the only bowl she'd brought, which was slightly damp from being washed recently. So, he had eaten. "We'll be going to my house today, Flagoon," she said. He didn't answer, didn't even twitch to indicate that he'd heard her. "It's not that far, but we'll have to walk. You can walk, right?"

"Yes."

Sylphiel sighed and concentrated on eating for a moment more, collecting her thoughts and trying to figure out what to do now. No other inspiration came, except that she'd have to wash out the pot and bowl and pack it all away before heading out. "Or would you rather stay here?" she asked, just to see if she could get a different answer than 'yes'.

"No."

Well, she'd gotten her wish. Leaning closer, Sylphiel looked at his profile- he was rather handsome, but... still the spirit of a tree, and still the body of the one who'd killed Sairaag. That made her a little ill at heart and nearly put her off her breakfast, but she forced herself to eat, glancing up towards the gathering clouds on the edge of the sky. "Looks like rain..." she commented. He didn't answer that. Apparently, only direct questions rated his attention. "Do you want any more?" she asked, offering the bowl out to him.

At least this time, he looked at her, eyes flatly staring at her face a moment before lowering to the bowl she held out. Flagoon took it and turned away again, setting the bowl in his lap.

Sylphiel closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. "Flagoon," she said softly, "You can't absorb food through your skin, you have to put it in your mouth." She was about to reach over and show him what she meant when he stirred himself and lifted the bowl to sip the juice from. Satisfied that he had understood, Sylphiel turned to pack up the rest of camp and took the stew pot off to rinse out. It would be washed once she got home.

When she returned, the bowl was empty and set aside, Flagoon nowhere in sight. Panic nearly choked her before she spotted him, walking back among the ruins to the camp from the opposite direction she'd taken. He looked stoic as ever, almost Rezo-like in the way he carried himself, as if he had the burden of being powerful and expected to use his power for the greatest good. He sat back down, exactly as he had been when she'd woken up, feet tucked under him and hands on his knees, back straight and eyes gazing off into the distance, towards the growing storm clouds. "Where did you go?" she asked Flagoon, but got no answer as she moved to pack up. "Flagoon?" Still nothing. Sylphiel sighed. "I suppose I shouldn't bother so much. Trees don't normally talk, why should you understand what a conversation is." This she told herself as she worked, and looked up to find him staring at her.

"I went to relieve myself, if you must know," Flagoon stated delicately. "Are you that interested in bodily functions?"

Blushing terribly, Sylphiel stared at him in shock. "N-no..." she stammered, "I- was just worried."

Flagoon looked away once more and replied a trifle sourly, "Don't be. I can handle myself." There was a hint of a sigh in his voice at that.

Well, that answered that question, and several others. Flagoon did have some way of knowing how to survive in a human body, and could communicate in full sentences. Likely he would also be easy to take care of. "How do you feel today?" she asked, changing the subject.

Flagoon didn't feel like answering that question.

"Flagoon," Sylphiel insisted, "...why did you choose this body?"

Silently, she waited for an answer, waited almost a full minute, and finally sighed, giving up. Taking the empty bowl, she carried it over to the water's edge to rinse out, then returned, packing it away. "We should get going. It'll be lunch time by the time we get to my house."

Without speaking a word, Flagoon stood and turned towards her, towering against the sky in a rather faded look. He hardly looked well at all, but his legs were holding steady. Extinguishing her campfire, Sylphiel covered the ashes and picked up her pack, then turned to lead the way back to her home. Flagoon followed, two steps behind her, moving slowly, but surely.

She tried to slow her pace to match his, but he withdrew from her hand every time she reached for him until finally, Sylphiel gave up, feeling somewhat hurt that Flagoon was being so... antisocial and withdrawn from her- the only shrine maiden of Sairaag left.

Kopii Rezo felt like he'd been put through a meat grinder then pulled apart and stretched on a rack to dry and somehow glued back together with everything on backwards. He knew who to blame for the weird feeling that he didn't belong in flesh, but the rest of it was all his aches and bruises. His body simply hadn't been made very well to start with, and on top of that, Rezo had simply been old, though he hid it well. He ached in places he never knew he had, just from having to sleep outside. It wasn't an experience he particularly enjoyed.

At least movement, the steady pace Sylphiel kept to- after he'd gotten her to leave him alone- warmed his joints and got his blood moving. He still felt like it was sap rather than blood and was half tempted to prick his finger, just to check. Flagoon was lurking in the background of his mind, a steady presence that was just as reassuring as it was disturbing.

At least Flagoon didn't have the overwhelming desire to destroy everything like Zanafaar had. Flagoon just let him do as he wished, so long as it wasn't anything intended to hurt Sylphiel. Kopii had an uncomfortable awareness of her, compliments of Flagoon. He knew he'd hurt her feelings, but he really didn't feel like being social- not right now, not to her. Not when she kept calling him Flagoon and treating him like an idiot that couldn't even wipe his own ass. As he'd told her earlier, he could take care of himself. He didn't need her help. No matter how much he hurt.

The sun climbed higher and the day grew warmer, steadily until he was sweating and thirsty. His feet ached, soles raw from walking barefoot, legs protesting every step, sharp pains shooting up his spine at every stumble. Kopii wanted to stop and rest, but knew that if he did, he wouldn't want to get up again, and Sylphiel would try to touch him again, or worse, carry him. They'd gotten out of the ruins of the city about an hour ago and were walking through open countryside, down a packed dirt road with tall waving grass on either side and off in the distance was a forest. She looked back at him as he stumbled for the second time in the last few minutes and his knees met with the ground, stones hidden within the dirt of the road scraping skin off.

Turning, Sylphiel rushed to kneel beside him, "Flagoon- are you alright?" she asked, radiating concern, her hands reaching for him.

He wanted to outright reject it, but after a glance into her eyes, Kopii was forced to admit, "I ...need to rest," he couldn't lie to her, not with Flagoon merged with his soul. She was his shrine maiden, whether he wanted her or not, there was no making her go away.

Sylphiel's eyes watered, "I'm so sorry- I should have stopped sooner-"

"Stop," Kopii breathed and leaned forward, resting his weight on his arms, hands planted on the ground in front of his knees, head drooping and sweaty grimy hair hanging in front of his face limply. A light breeze played with the ends of his hair and the grass to either side of the road- it tasted like rain. "You blame yourself for everything, don't you?" he asked, more rhetorically than anything. He certainly didn't expect an answer, and didn't get one either. "I didn't tell you I was tired," he added to soften the sting of his previous observation, having felt the pang of pain that rattled down his link to her through Flagoon.

She accepted that and lowered her pack to the ground, pulling out her water canteen and offered it to him. Kopii would have loved to just dump the whole thing over his head, but that would have taken effort- and made her think that he was trying to water himself. Heaving another breath, he lifted one hand, dirt clinging to his palm, and took the canteen. His hand shook terribly and he ended up splashing himself anyway. "A bath..." he said softly, "I want a bath. A long one." He felt bad about demanding things from her, after what he'd done to her home, her city... but he did have a legitimate claim on her- and she was going to give him one anyway, if she had to hold him down and scrub him herself. Considering his current level energy, she might have to.

"Of course," Sylphiel said simply, "You can take as long as you like." Her hand touched his cheek lightly and he pulled away, taking another swig from the water, then lowered the canteen. "Flagoon- how... how do you know ..."

Silence fell as Sylphiel couldn't quite bring herself to ask the question, and Kopii seriously considered ignoring it- let her wonder... except she'd never leave him alone about it, he was sure. "I have watched for a long time," he told her, speaking for Flagoon- and then it wasn't really a lie. "I have... memories too."

If he'd had the strength to lift his head and look at her, Kopii would have seen her eyes light with shock, then the brief burn of anger. "So you have Rezo's memories?"

"And Zanafaar's," Kopii admitted, but refused to tell her that he was the copy of Rezo she hated so much.

Sylphiel lowered her eyes and sat quietly for a time, giving him the silence he wanted. He also wanted to lay down, a choice that was taken from him when a tendon popped in his locked elbow and he shifted his weight to ease that pain and ended up toppling over onto his side. Sylphiel moved quick enough to catch his head and placed it into her lap, her hand soothing back his hair. It would have been even better if he weren't on the ground and had clean hair, but he could smell her personal scent beneath the odor of grime he'd put on her, and if he closed his eyes, he could even taste her. The temptation was too great, and Kopii let himself fall into a daze, wrapped in her rich velvety perfume.

Kopii was startled from his abrupt nap when she stirred. Opening his eyes, he looked to the sky. An hour? Yes, his body agreed with that estimation. "Flagoon...?" Sylphiel said, "We should get going, if you're up to it."

"Yes," he murmured agreement, but she had to push him vertical and pulled his arm over her shoulder as he stumbled along. Sleeping on the ground was not helping him in the least, sure, he was getting rest, but he woke up stiffer and sorer than before. A bath would help, but he had to get there first.

Again, silence fell between them, and Kopii had no choice but to lean on her rather heavily as they walked. Another hour and he was tired, but had managed to work his muscles enough to take some weight off Sylphiel's shoulders. An hour after that, and then they turned off the main road, onto a side path that lead to a little cottage among a stand of trees. Kopii almost started laughing. She had a white picket fence. He really shouldn't have been so surprised, after all, Sylphiel was the type.

At the door, they paused long enough for her to get it open and for her to drop her pack, then she pulled him in, carting him through the house too fast for him to get more than a glance at the pristine cleanliness she lived in. Kopii blinked and missed the kitchen and they were in the bath a second later, where Sylphiel left him to start pumping water into the tub and find up fresh towels. He sat on the bench nearby and gazed off into space, feeling drained of all will to even expend energy breathing.

Not breathing wasn't a viable option at the time, so Kopii continued to do it. Sylphiel returned and started undressing him, and it took a moment more for him to realize what she was up to and make any sort of move to stop her, but by then, she had his robes off- blushing so bright, he could have toasted marshmallows with the heat of it. Out the door she went, his robes going with her and Kopii had a feeling he wasn't going to see those things again. "If she doesn't burn them, she might bury them," he muttered. "Good riddens, they're not worth keeping for rags anyway," dragging himself to his feet, he managed to get into the sanded wooden tub without falling over and dunked his head beneath the water, staying there as long as he could before coming up again and hunting down the soap with his eyes closed.

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