[div style="background-color: #292727; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px; height: 340px; padding: 10px;"]Sephiroth had a lot on his mind lately.

The thoughts came to him as he wandered outside of the ruins to wander the jungle, approaching the edge where foliage moved into desert.  It was the quietest part of the territory, nothing but the still air of the sands laid out before him to take too.  The lion would meander the dry desert, moving powerfully with a sort of dangerous elegance about him.

The Rosebloods needed help, that much he knew.  Especially if they wanted to survive under his leadership.  Their alliances were shaky, their membership was low…Sephiroth hated to admit it but something was wrong.  His pale face was creased as he padded aimlessly onward, pawprints firm and noticeable in the grain underneath him.  His mental frustration was obvious in his body language, not that he asked for help.  That was an issue with him, he took everything onto himself and didn’t see anything wrong with it.  And Sephiroth was stubborn enough to not address it.

He needed purpose.  It was pathetic, without a goal he was worthless.  He berated himself for that, for being lost.  He was leader, but things were falling apart.  Sometimes things took his mind off the duties he held as leader, but then that simply lead to a return to self loathing for daring to waste time when there were things that needed his attention.  It was a vicious cycle, he couldn’t rest for fear of losing time.  Why was his drive to succeed, to find his purpose, something so strong that it ate at him day and night?

As the day dragged on Sephiroth wandered more, his mind stirring.  The more he thought the more it weighed him down, the realization that this image he built for himself wasn’t real, that he was just as flawed as any other creature he had met here.  Doubt gnawed at him viciously.  It was a feeling he was unused to and hated.  High and mighty becoming low and weak.  His steps slowed as everything sunk in, his slit pupiled eyes downcast.

Hush now…..there is no need for a god to worry.

Sephiroth would whirl around at a voice from an unknown source, heard only to him and ringing inside of his head.  What kind of trick was it?  He growled quietly, not in the mood for games.  ”Who…said that?”  The male’s voice was quiet and icy, not losing his hold on himself even when all by himself.  Nobody was in sight, no Aspect or spirit or anything.  It was all in his head apparently.

That matters very little at the current time.  The voice purred in his head.  The answer shall come to you soon.  What you need to do, Lord of the Rosebloods, is not to concern yourself to the point where you loose sight of purpose.  Your purpose is here, to make your group strong.  To make yourself strong, you are already above others in a way that will come to you soon enough, all you need to do is prove it.  Lead, be the god you were born to be.  Lord Sephiroth.  Who’s name shall strike fear into every noble heart this and every other world have to offer.

This land is too soft for the likes of you.  You should know very well about carrying out ones dirty work, Sephiroth.  It is time for you to be commanding, not following orders.  It’s what you were born to do.  Send them out for to strike fear, keep other groups in line.  Make them serve others.  Stand above all.  Make the changes, Lord Sephiroth, make them rise

Sephiroth would listen until the voice, feminine he came to realize, faded away from his mind and left him alone.  He was great, the voice told him.  They needed a change.  Hm.  The male would lift his head and allow the desert breeze to shift his mane before he turned and started to head back to them jungle base of the Rosebloods.  His mind was swirling with different thoughts now.  Him commanding his group, making a great change…his mind would have to stew over this.  A meeting was set to take place soon, he would have to make his changes then.

His posture returned to confidence as he strolled back into the heavy jungle, renewed power in his stride.  Sephiroth’s eyes were lidded and passive, his head held up, his steps powerful with a new purpose.  To give his group purpose.  To command.  To lead.

To be a god.