Er, not "Broken" Per Say... [Yuan]

[Zelos Wilder]

``Zelos WILDER

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Yet another reason why he hated Sylvarant--this blasted desert. The wastelands near Flanoir were so much less awful than this; he'd trade for it any day. The biting cold ripping at your ears and your nose and your fingers, nearly being blinded by the white snow when the sun hit it--it was so much nicer than the sand. It brushed up in his eyes, and got in his shoes, it made his hair dry and frizzy--blech. And he just happened to, uh, "crash" in it. A Rhaeard, half-buried in the sand... the wing broken off, lost somewhere else far away, never to be seen again...

Hello, Triet! The single oasis in the awful place, with sandstorms still raging around but not quite as hard. He could use some water. And some help. He knew there was a Renegade base somewhere around here, but... he didn't know exactly where it was. It was too hard and too much of a hassle to try and see it through the sand. If he was lucky, maybe he'd spot one of those dopey soldiers of his and hitch a ride on the way over to that big blue base. Kind of ironic, too, considering he'd arrived through the base upon coming to Sylvarant in the first place. Though, he'd been in a different place on his way here. Although, he had a feeling he'd accidentally ask a Desian by accident, since the two breeds looked almost exactly the same, and then Yuan would murder him and the soldier he'd asked for nearly letting out the "secret" of his "secret" organization. It really wasn't very secrative. Just look at Kratos--that traitor found it perfectly fine.

His boots leaving prints in the sand behind him as he entered, Zelos looked around through eyes pointed up, for he needed to keep his head low in order to keep sand out of it. His red hair flew behind him as he navigated toward the inn--somewhere where he could get himself some water and a nice rest until he could find Yuan or a Renegade. There was no way he was going to stay in this wasteland of a continent for very long, and he was not going to go on foot. No way. No freaking way. At least Lloyd had that weird blue-dog-bird-whateveritwas thing that helped him get through the desert the first time.

Upon entering the inn, he glanced at the innkeeper who was looking down at something; probably reading a book... maybe even asleep. He went over and banged a fist on the desk, and when the head snapped up, he had his usual devilish smirk on. He requested a room, and quickly got one--the nice one on the first floor. Oh, the glories of being rich in the poor land of Sylvarant. He went inside to get a drink of water and then headed out again, squinting through the sand and heading through the oasis in search of a Renegade. Oh, his extreme hate of Sylvarant was so overpowering...[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/color]

[|Yuan|~.:Ka-Fai:.]

'Whu is this!?'

It had only been a few minutes that he had a Renegade soldier report a something crashing into the dessert. Being the scientific kind of guy, he had assumed that it might be a meteorite or perhaps something from Derris Kharlan. Something that would prove to be useful to his cause.

No. It was far from 'useful'.

It was a broken Rhaeard, half buried underneath the sand with a wing broken off. Somewhere hidden in the scorching hot desert. The other Renegade soldiers would blame the heat that was emeting off at them, and others would say that it was their leaders. His shoulders stiff and hunched, and his fists tight at his side. Death was radiating off of the man, and that was enough for them to get the picture that Lord Yuan wants: the person responsible, the missing wing, and for them to send the Rhaeard back to the base.

Or death would be far more pleasing to them.

"Soldiers..." Yuan says quietly, his teeth clenched together in anger.

"Sir!" They all replied, with their hands going up into a salute. None of them daring to move a muscle from their position, to even breathe.

Yuan remembered which colors were stolen, which Rhaeard was giving to which person. So it was natural that he knew who had used this flying machine.

"FIND ZELOS WILDER!" Yuan yells, as he turns towards his soldiers. His face bright red in anger, and his jade eyes sending signals of sever death to anyone who dare not find that Chosen.

"S-sir!" They all exclaimed in their salute, and all rushes off to find the red head. Well first they would head for the base, and get a briefing on who Zelos Wilder was. THEN they would go off to look for someone familiar to the chosen, check for any places the Chosen would be, and all sorts of military thingies.

Pulling at the collar of his armor, he heads towards Triet. The only valid place for anyone to go towards. After all that is the closest settlement with water. Knowing the Chosen and his pampered self, he would check the inn first for clues, than start his search of the oasis town.

Naturally he would just let his pawn of soldiers to do the job, but their stupidity has become rather annoying and he wasn't going to lose sight of his prey. Besides, Triet is a lot closer than his base. He really needed a drink of water.

Few minutes later

Stepping into the desert town, he peals his low pony-tail from his back neck and places it on his shoulder. Even an angel, he still sweat and could feel the temperature. Wearing this kind of armor, with black, isn't so smart on his part.

Walking into the inn, he calls for a room and some water.

Taking the cup full of water in one hand, and the keys to his door in the other. He lifts the cup to his mouth, to get a swig of water. His thoughts heading towards that he was going to punch the Chosen on sight. Right in the gut, and really really really hard.

Still drinking his water he hears the sound of the door opening...

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