The Color of Blood

“I never thought it was possible for a race to gain so much pleasure from spilling each other’s blood!” exclaimed Symala.

“You haven’t seen anything yet, Sym.”

“What are you talking about, Astral? O, what’s that?!?”

“It’s just a gas station, Sym; there are hundreds of them here. And pay attention!!! You are here to observe their methods and traditions. All you’ve seen so far is a bar fight and a hooker. We have yet to visit the war sights or political buildings.”

“Oh come on, Astral!!!”

“What?”

“I have been alive for over 3,000 years and I have never seen a race a violent as this one. Well, maybe the Xanders’ but still. Please, I want to explore a little. Let me look around.”

“Do I really have a choice?” Astral said rolling his eyes.

“Hn, that’d be something to see!”

“What would?”

“A 3,000 year old Goddess vs. a 27 year old Scribe,” laughed Symala.

“Oh ha, ha!” said examining his notes.

“Wouldn’t be much of a battle.”

“Oh? And what do you mean by that?!?” Astral looked up.

“Only that I’d SO kick your ass!!!” Symala stuck out her tongue.

“Is that a fact?”

“Why? You wanna test it?!?”