Marshall dived into the waters of the hotsprings that Anton had led him to, too comfortable washing off the blood and gore to be shy even as Anton dived into the water to clean himself as well. He felt the heat bleed into his every facet, easing him into the heights of comfort and peace. "I love this place." he said, looking at the arching marble above him, having been allowed into the local bath house in a semi private room with his newly appointed Guardian.

Anton signed, pouring water over his head. "This place is not as great as you think... you need to be careful. Your blood, seen as dirty, will cause you great strife."

He froze, eyes wide. "Bias is here too... why can't things be... anyway, thanks for the warning."

They were silent for the next twenty or so minutes as Marshall cleaned himself with the most sweet smelling citrus soap before dressing in what looked like a white tunic. Looking into a mirror, a long silver lined mirror etched with runes of all shapes, he saw that he looked like a cross between an ancient Roman and an Elf mixed with overalls. It was something he actually sort of enjoyed, and it made him smile. He felt... almost at home, odd as it sounded to even thing.

Anton, moving with inhuman grace, was at his side in an instant. "You look handsome." He almost purred, a sound that did odd things to the only human in the room.

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Eager to change the topic, he asked what had been on his mind for the last few hours. "Um... why... May I ask, do you have scales, and orange blood?"

The cringe that came from his words broke Marshall's heart, as did the raw edge of soft pain in the other man's eyes. "My mother was a Sea Nymph, she took on the form of what some call a mermaid. Some of us with mixed blood look human, some do not. I am one of those with the less human looks."

Grabbing his hands, a soft red light blurred between them and healing flooded them both. Pain, fresh as the goring from before and ten times as deep, pierced Marshall's heart. "I... I find you beautiful, you know. Human looking or not, you don't deserve whatever is causes you so much pain."

Puling away gently, the red light fading, Anton offered a smile. "You're a better man than most, Marshall. Let's go to the feast, they are having it in both of our honors."A moment of tenderness, a soft appreciation filled Anton's eyes, his fingers moving up to brush Marshall's cheek. "Your gift for healing, it is for more than physical wounds, but all magic comes at a great cost... be wary of that."

Marshall nodded. "I'll keep that in mind." And so they left, tension unfading as they walked out. 'What is happening, all I want is to make sure he is okay, no one should feel so much aguish...'

And he knew, somehow, that though it was born of his healing gifts, so much more of it came from Anton's effortless appreciation... and for that, he easily fell.