Albion had taken his time walking back to the carriages and the camping site outside of town. He needed time to cool off after meeting people who seemed to push every one of his buttons that made him angry. He looked at the blue skies, yet to his eyes, they seemed murkier than he remembered. He took deep breaths yet the air was still, stagnant. Just being in this town brought his mind to dark places. Its people clawed at his person and the town's aura seemed to dirty his own.
Yet he knew there were other places that needed to be explored, the world was a large place and he was simply seeing a small part of it. He needed to be realistic. Some people just hated demons because they were different. It didn't matter what history they had, whether blood was spilled or not. The difference in races was already a big gap between two people, two sides who were both losing things in this war. A war that never seemed to end.