A military uniform. He had seen one before but not quite like this persons. He had seen his people fight others who invaded and many fall. He had seen his creations desecrated and spat upon, burned to the ground by men who wore no uniform, and watched those who clad themselves in such garb do similar. But he also knew that sometimes, not all could be judged by the same things.
"I do not know of your land" he admitted. He might have been a God but he certainly was not one of the all knowing types. He was born of the earth and born of war, despair and fury, wrath and bloodshed. He was born to become the cycle that never was, and brought order to the world, never once knowing his Father, never once knowing if he had a Mother. Never one wondering...
"What is the matter?" he asked softly, kneeling down in front of him. He reached a hand out to touch his face gently, his own skin warm to the touch.