Society has changed over these years, wars brought pestilence, and more war, eventually everything was sent back to a bronze age idealism and industry, very few items have remained, even religion has changed, all of society revolved around the cleric, a priest if you will, though there was two for every task, science and healing, agriculture and industry, affairs and justice. The two worked together, and now the cleric of healing's partner, the cleric of science has left, or more over was killed in an experiment that went horribly awry and exploded. A new cleric was to be provided, a female(or male). Now Cleric's weren't allowed to have any form of physical relationship with anyone, though that may change, a double taboo if you will may just happen, not only two females(or male and female) but also two Clerics in love. The female sat legs tucked under her, tail wrapped around her waist, a stone bowl before her various herbs within it, her paw on the pestle grinding the aromatic herbs into a fine pasty powder, every so often adding a hit of this or a drop of that. Her eyes were on her business, one side of the large room was hers, the other was science. A bit of soot still remained from the explosion here and there but for the most part the mess and the horrible smell were gone. Emerald eyes stared at her work as she began to scrape it all into another smaller bowl and placed a strip of tightly woven linen over the top. A small sigh escaped her lips while she stood, only standing around five foot, her body that of a gray fox, clothes in modest black and white cloth, her hood off her head allowing her to work better. She was a beautiful girl indeed no more than twenty five, though her clothes did well to cover her body's curves, as was the point. Slowly she stretched, a few bones cracking her tail poking straight out for the moment long and bushy. As she came to a stop she pushed her long brown hair behind her ear, the braid rolled behind her head into a bun, just to keep it together while she worked, the rest fell around her face framing it nicely. On her neck there was a mark however, right where her juggler was, a burned on celtic cross, the mark of the cleric. Soon the girl(guy) who was to work behind her would get that mark and she would tend to the burn as soon as she/he arrived. Letting a long sigh she moved to her bed, one of two in the far corner of the room, next to a large hearth, meant for cooking, smelting, heating, anything they could need. Also behind her was a door, the rest room and the springs for the two clerics. Next to it was another door, the sick ward and their spring. They were kept separate for obvious reasons. Sitting upon the goose down mattress the female sighed looking towards the door to the large hall she was in, it was a rather lonely life to be a cleric, even if all of the people loved and flocked to you or one of your colleagues for help in any sort of manner, the lack of love was depressing and the gray stone walls around them were even more so. To even show any form of love or attachment was forbidden for them, they were to be like the robots of old, back before the earth was blown to hell and society forced to restart from scratch with only remnants of the old ways. To live secluded and as partners and yet not allowed to mate, to use their most primal instinct. Only the strongest of will could live like this, in such close contact day after day. She was entering the cycle in the year that always pushed her zealousy, her very will to survive, for if she was to mate she and the other would be put to death and all of their research destroyed as heresy.