R E N A i S S A N C E __time.to.dance]

[Vox]

S i L E R E E

"She had returned" went the old saying. "She had come back to the lands of old". Or something along the lines of that. Something that seemed to have the same infamous 'her she comes, men, brace yourselves' tone of those tales. It would be lovely, really it would, to be able to start this off with that. And, a part of her wished that she could think these thoughts with conviction. But she couldn't, so she didn't bother trying to force her mind in a direction it had clearly stated it did not want to go. Lands that had not welcomed her, territories that had questioned her fealty, hmmm? It was, possibly, a shock that she had returned after all. After all she had suffered, one could say. But here we are hitting the same wall as we did with our beginning, wouldn't you say? For Sileree could not waltz apon the dirt, the dust, the sand, the grass thinking to herself 'I have returned, whether they like it or not, I have returned. And the lands will hear my name ring out through the valleys and grottos!' Mighty and powerful as that may sound, she could not bring herself to extrude it into her mentality. The fact of the matter was, she had never been much of an infamous lass in effect to her surroundings. When the name 'Sileree' was spoken, blank faces turned to one another, hushed whispers of 'Sileree? Dear me, who is that? Is it...The lady of beloved Uncle Alfard? Or was it Gelethane's mistress?! That horrid, vile snake of a woman who took our Walara's happiness away?! No...Different eyes, can't be her.' Or something similar. She was not...Known, to be frank. And, despite some assumptions you may have made to her character, that suited her very well. Very well, indeed it did...

There was no squelching sound, no soft suction, nor was there any form of moisture in the sounds made by her almost delicately placed paws. A typical lissome stride carried the tawny madam across the parched ground, ebony nails making slight indents on the impressionable earth. A slight huff came from between dark lips, a piercing glare emanating from the lamp-like, haunting eyes. Gentle was the tug at her cheeks that shewed the tell-tale half-smile that accompanied the darling to most places. But this time, maybe just this time, a definite tinge of regret marred her handsome features. She had come back to these lands, yes, and in an entirely casual, imformal way. Which was half of the problem. Half-expecting justice to be served to her by Lothril, and with a small hope that she was only to be demoted or exhiled, our young lady had made her way back to Kinamasi for either. If she was to be killed for disloyalty, for eloping with a rogue male who had no intention of joined the Akina, then she would bear it stoically and silently, as was the custom of her people. Honor, discipline, that was the stuff they were made of. But...Lothril was gone, Tari's scent was all but diminshed and even Almira had wandered off. Vishar was no where to be seen, Deimos and his lapdog Nkira were excusable but...Vishar, Javyia, what of them? A heavy silence had taken the marsh, along with a great thirst. A greater thirst perhaps, than her own. Sileree's tongue felt the arid air for a moment as she opened her black mouth to taste the wind. It felt like a bone, almost bleached by the sun and as dry as anything could be. The poor muscle even felt shrivelled and dulled for taste, but it could've been her imagination. Finely proportioned, a touch on the thin side, and easily more elegant that most ladies, she was a fine thing to behold. The rippling of muscle underneath the soft, well-groomed coat was evident, though not over-stated; the complex pattern that he long tail beat agains the air held that practiced tempo that only this particular lioness could dance to.

Water, the ever illusive, yet the vitally important. She needed some, and soon, or she would be consumed by the heat that seemed to originate in her throat. A slight rasp came from between those normally silky, now chapped, lips. There was one face in particular she wanted to see, one particular body she wanted to feel, and just one subtle smile she wanted to witness. Her supple limbs felt weak, useless, but she continued to flop them around, with perhaps a little less grace than usual. The air caught in her chest now, and a grimace crossed her pretty face, darkening her countenance. A flash of fangs and a snarl came as a crack opened on one of her paws and began to bleed. 'The brilliance of your mind astounds us, Ms. Fen! Where do you get it?' Came the snide, sardonic voice in her head. A loud curse reverberated in her mind, but she did not utter it. It would only make her mouth more dry, and goodness knew she didn't need that. Her eyes glazed slightly as she moved along her way, peering blearily at the horizon, no sign of water evident to her tired eyes. A small patch of reeds came closer, seemingly of it's own accord as her mind blurred. A gnat flew past her eye and she felt her heart stop. Was there liquid nearby?! Hoping against hope it wasn't just some dead beast who, like her, had wandered foolishly into these dry lands, she moved as swiftly as her pounding head and aching lungs could permit towards the noise she only half imagined. Fresh, life-giving it was, and her eyes cleared of their heat-streams as she half-fell into the tiny creek. The cool, almost brackish, water soothed her skin, and she lie there. Splayed out in a strange, still way was she, allowing the water to flow against her, attempting to shift her weight aside to no avail. 'Ah...Now what could be missing?' Mockery floated from the slitted yellow eyes, and the sultry smile, so long gone, was hitched back into place. He would come, he had, after all, promised.

thinkBLUE

[Lassiel]

_{Post coming!}

[Lassiel]

The heat was stifling, nearly choking beneath his full mane. The dark fur of his pelt absorbed the bright sun’s rays, warming his body almost unbearably. His large form moved sluggishly, head bowed against the blinding light and chocolate eyes hooded. Our young man was far from a happy sight. He was tried, weary beyond belief from traveling, yet refused to rest without first finding some shade—and water. Ah yes. Water right about now would be wonderful. Dust, which was so very common during this dry time of the year, irritated his parched throat with every other breath. Perhaps he should have stayed in areas with a little more moisture—but it had been so long since he had seen her, and he was sick of waiting for better weather. So now here Thorn was, making his slow way across the lands. He visited her old pride lands first, even daring to step into the marsh and risk the pride’s anger. But no one was to be found. It appeared as if the entire group had just vanished. He grew worried then, wondering if rogues, or even another pride, had appeared and run them off. Really, he didn’t care what happened to them, but she did and it was her home. But there were no signs something like that had taken place and so he continued searching the area. And then he found it—a scent he knew well, and one that was amazingly fresh compared to the faint ones that lingered. Without waiting another day, another hour, he followed.

Large paws stopped moving as his chest rumbled in a deep cough, attempting to dislodge a particularly annoying piece of dust. Throat finally cleared, he shook his mane slightly to rid it of the collecting dirt, growling softly to himself. In the hard ground, he had lost the trail a day or so ago. Now, he had taken to wandering in the same general direction it had last been heading. What could he say? He was not the best of trackers and the conditions were only complicating things. But there was nothing to do except persevere; maybe he would come across a trace again if he kept walking, since he very well could not turn around and head back. With a huff speaking of annoyance at himself, Thorn continued on, eyeing the bare limbs of some scraggly brush not too far away. A hot wind started up, blowing dirt and the remains of dried grass in his face. Squeezing his eyes shut, the lion held his breath until it stopped. His careful inhale afterwards caused dark eyes to snap open in surprise. Completely unexpected, yet blessedly fresh and welcome, the scent the gust brought to him was exactly what he was looking for. Dismissing his tired body, strong legs stretched into a ground-eating jog. She was too close to plod after like some idiot now. If he hurried, he just might be able to catch up to her. A few moments later, as his paws pounded the hard earth in a steady tempo, the damp smell of water reached him. He smirked inwardly. A drink and a lady! Luck was with him today! With the knowledge of what awaited him, Thorn’s mood lightened considerably.

Coming upon the bushes he had noticed before, he quickly shoved past them—and there she was, splayed out in the water with the tempting smile he loved curling its way across her beautiful face. Slowing, he padded up to her, chest rising and falling much heavier than usual due to the heat and the run. The stream washed over his paws as he neared, stopping quite close to her head and grinning. What is my Vixen doing all the way out here? You’ve led me on quite a chase. His voice was teasing, containing barely concealed laughter. Their whole relationship was "quite a chase" wasn't it? Never seeming able to meet for long, and hunting each other down as soon as the opportunity presented itself. An interesting way to live, for sure. Part of him wished she would break her ties with the pride so they could journey together without fear—but the rational side of him knew such a thing would not be wise. What if it brought the anger of the pride down upon her? And even if it didn't, having a true home was much safer than living the life of a rogue. He would endure these little separations, though every meeting would make him wish for more. But if her pride was no longer around...It looked as if it wasn't, and if that were so, it meant they now had all the time in the world. He dipped his head briefly, lapping at the water to quench some of his thirst and then, with a quick movement, running his tongue across her cheek.

ooc: So sorry for the wait Voxxie.

[Vox]

ooc; No problem! ^^

It seemed she was losing her touch...She hadn't noticed him by his smell, by any sound, or by the slight flicker of pseudo-motion at her side when he finally came. Perhaps...It was the noise of the tiny brook. Yes, it must've been. Her golden, rust-coloured coat caught the light and danced with it along her exposed side. She was not used to being a nomad, though she had traveled so long and far for a time, after almost two years of being in the Akina Pride. But...With the sudden disbanding of them, she had had to hunt smaller, quicker game that was less fierce. It didn't suit her, this life, she realized now. She loved her Pride, they were her sisters, her ladies-in-arms. Sileree wouldn't have it any other way, and...It pained her to think of such things. Especially when she pondered on the consequences of her actions, or rather, her decision. But...She loved her Prince as much as her Pride. Which did she love more? Her tired mind couldn't grapple with the problem, and a rasping chuff escaped her now no longer parched lips. The water ran in and out of her ear, which was pressed against the cool liquid of life, creating a pleasant burbling noise that made it impossible for her to escape into the realms of sleep she so wished to gambol in. 'Have I not earned a small stretch of peace...?' She thought, hopelessly. The dry season would beat down on her until she perished, she had always hated the heat. She would have to move from this haven some time or other, move to keep her limbs from growing weak, and to eat. If only she was like Truth...'You, brother, are truly the wiser of us two...I only wish I had learned from Father the way you did. You were always so much cleverer than I..' A flame of hope surged in her chest, in spite of these thoughts. Thorn didn't think she was dim-witted. Thorn thought she was very smart, and...She smiled in that sly way of hers as she thought of his pet name for her. He had invented it on their first encounter, had he not? '"My little Vixen..." was what he used to say...' A sudden impulse to leave the Akina and search for her lost friend, her lost...No. No he was not her lover. They had never been involved in such a way. Her emotions, which had run away with her for a moment, came scurrying back to her as her mind injected reason--albeit with bitterness--into the conversation with herself. 'You cannot give him what he will eventually ask for...You know that. Why do you toy with him so? Why do you tease him, allow him to invest his emotions in one such as you?' The chiding voice came in her head. A soft, fluttering sigh rattled through her thin chest, moving her ribs as they stuck out of her handsome hide, the shadows that indicated her lean muscles twitching slightly as she flexed a paw.

Sileree knew she would need to tell him...Need to discuss the matter with him, most thoroughly, and tell him everything. 'But I don't want to...' She thought sulkily, a childish note in her mental voice. Why couldn't things go on as they had, for such a lovely period of time, between them? She wanted things to go on that way! For them to be friends...More than friends, and yet not entirely mates, for the longest of times. She had known it would not last and yet she had dared to hope she could stretch their time together in such a fashion out longer. Maybe a little longer, and then a little longer again would bring them to eternity, one step, one extension at a time. The lady was thinking foolishly, and she hated being foolish. Not only because others would think less of her for it, but because it achieved nothing. Logic, and politic were her allies. She would have to approach him about it, and she would. As soon as she saw him, as soon as she found him, she would go right up to him and say..."What is my Vixen doing all the way out here? You’ve led me on quite a chase." Her heart skipped a beat, eyes went blind with terror, muscles froze and then went limp in surprise. An electrical current ran through her body, causing the beating in her chest to leap into her throat and pound wildly. All that showed was a stiffening in her muscles and a mild jump to her head, as it was lifted from the water which the other lapped at so greedily. Her shock was not concealed, her confusion, maybe a little dismay, showed clearly on her face for a moment. Her dark lids blinked slowly, and she cursed her stupidity. If he saw that look, if he caught a glimpse of that expression without knowing what he previous thoughts had been...She would have to divulge why she had seemed so upset by his appearance, or risk him growing unhappy at the idea she was not pleased to see him. Sileree took a deep breath, her expression turning into relief, unfeigned and genuine, as it sunk it. He was here, her plan had failed, but he was here...Her heart slowed, her breath--which she had not noticed was being held--was slowly let out, and she smiled at him. Curiousity, tenderness and maybe just a touch of her old mischeviously sultry manner crept onto her face in the form of her cheeks shifting up into a broader smile. How she had missed him! How she had longed to be near him, her desire for closeness surprising even herself--she seemed to be breaking her rut of icy frigidity around males, hmm? Or perhaps just around this one, this individual who had so caught her attention.

A soft ruffling of the smooth fur on her strong jaw drew her attention away from her feeling and onto his face, then across his body. He was, she had to admit, a very fine specimen. Maybe an inch or two more of temptation ran into her face as she peeled herself from the ground, her coat saved the need for a washing because of the dry ground. A purr rumbled in her fine throat, and she restrained her first urge to come up to him and rub herself against his entire body, muscled and strong as it was. She also, tactfully, supressed the desire to ask him to run away with her, far far away to one of those secluded glades only the greatest stories contained. It wouldn't do...Not before they talked. And dear goodness did they have a talk coming their way. She sat her backside down, hip bones jutting ever so slightly out of her side, her legs as long and fine as they had always been. Her mouth opened, and she commented in a slightly dry tone. "I began to wonder if my Prince Charming needed a radio collar to tag down his Damsel In Distress, or whether my footprints would be enough..." She trailed off delicately, allowing the sarcasm to leave her voice for a soft, wistful tone on the last word. It whispered out of her mouth, but she cut the almost sorrowful comment short with a foxy smile. "But, you've found me, and now it's my turn to be 'It'. So run run, as fast as you can, boy...Or am I mixing the nursery games up?" Her sweet, eloquent tones ran out of her mouth with incredible ease. If it were not her who uttered them, one could say she spouted nonsensical lyrics...But for Sileree, that was all part of the game. She would play hard to get--for now. 'Let us observe how the manling takes it...' Her gentle teasing was characteristic, but...One must wonder, given her past behavior towards him, if the desert had added a touch of asperity, or perhaps an acidic tinge, to our darling Ms Sileree. Loyalty one has sworn...Or loyalty one has won? Which will, in the end, triumph, we shall muse. We shall ponder, consider the case with much care, you have our assurances on that. The right choice may not be made, but it will certainly be the one acted upon, and afterall...Is that not the way one is supposed to be?

[Lassiel]

The world is full of secrets. Everyone and everything engaged in the tidbits and rumors that abound. The innocence and mystery of a new path winding its way through the brush, the murmur of the leaves and twigs speaking of what is to come only to those who understand. The shared whisperings between two friends concerning what stereotypical Jane the well-known typical Jack was asking to the dance this time. I heard he's going to ask that girl in history...you know, the one who everyone says is such a prude? Really? Well, I heard he was going to ask one of the sophomores.... And then they giggle at the scandalous nature of it all, unaware that our Jack isn't even planning on going to the dance. Because, in reality, he is more than just the oh so plain Jack concerned only with what girl he can kiss next. He is tired of that. So tired. Another secret, you see? And while the two girls chat away about who his 'Jane' will be this month, Jack is thinking of the past and the future--trying to understand his mistakes and what he should do now. The Girl in History and the Sophomore stand to be disappointed, because, in another mind-blowing secret, he already has his Jane. But she is more than just a Jane to him. She is his beautiful Aphrodite and his wise Athena at the same time. More than just a pretty face, she is something else entirely. And maybe, just maybe, he can find redemption for all his wrongs in her. .....But you want to know another secret? One he will tell no one of? He is afraid--afraid of what his past will mean for him and his More Than Jane. Would his actions and feelings from before bother her? He needed to know...but he dreaded to ask. And worse--even disregarding the past events in his life, there were other pressing issues in their relationship. So many secrets. And yet, never were they hidden maliciously or with the intent to harm. But as our common Jack reasoned with himself, he knew he was willing to wait and simply enjoy himself in her presence if that was all he would be permitted to do. For how could he expect her to trust him if he didn't even trust himself?

His Vixen turned her attention onto him, golden eyes lighting up in curiosity, and the tempo of his blood increased as her welcome smile aimed itself at him. He stepped back a bit to give her room as she rose from the refreshing creek, but immediately returned to his original nearness as soon as she had lowered herself to a graceful sit, listening closely to the pleasant rumble of her purr. She did nothing more to greet him--not even a rub of her fine head against his! His dark eyes shone brightly at another challenge from his lady so soon after he found her. He would get her to show some form of affection, though he was well aware the lioness was as cunning as she was lovely. If she caught on to his little game (which he doubted would take too long) it could very well be all the more difficult to come out the winner. But as she began to speak, he turned his mind from his amusement, the rounded ears buried in the thick of his mane swiveling to focus on her voice. "But, you've found me, and now it's my turn to be 'It'. So run run, as fast as you can, boy...Or am I mixing the nursery games up?" He blinked quickly, a bit caught off guard by her tone, but quickly recovered himself with a wide grin. So she was intentionally playing this game...Hmm, well of course he would take her up on this--was it not what he was just thinking of? Within her teasing though, there was something else in her bearing and manner--something that seemed worried and distressed. He wondered what bothered her, but at the moment she did not seem to want to focus on it. And really, he did not want their reunion overshadowed so quickly either. What you don't know won't hurt you--or at least, that's what they say. But the more mature voice in the back of his mind--the one that often rescued him from trouble or kept him from falling into it--denied the statement. You know very well that the unknown can hurt just as much as the known, sometimes more. Play the game for now, and enjoy it. Because after, if there is still something burdening her, you will have to ask. Of course, the chance still lingered that it was nothing of importance....wishful thinking, most likely.

I can't help it that I'm a horrible tracker. A wide smile and a small lift of the shoulders. Sorry hun. Moving to her side and edging his large form closer, Thorn smirked teasingly as he lowered his muzzle next to her ear. But you...you are a tease. I have come such a long way for you, and now I have to run again without a kiss to urge me on? His voice rumbled deeply, injecting a false note of hurt feelings in his words. He refrained from touching her, except for, perhaps, the brush of his mane against her. It could not really be helped, seeing as how he was unwilling to get that far away from her. But despite the facade put on by his voice, he could not shake the feeling that this conversation would hold great importance for both of them. There were...complications in their relationship, he knew that. Shadows of his past that she knew nothing of (Raine....), problems caused by her belonging to a pride (was it still a pride, or had it fallen? He supposed he should ask her...)--it seemed they were destined for a difficult life together. And, as much as he wanted to, they could not keep running and putting it behind them. Sooner or later, it would all catch up to them. He was used to life without a pride and would not have it any other way, but though he knew she had also lived in such a way, he did not know if she would want to. The problem was, dear Thorn just did not want to make a decision. He knew, once it was made, there would be no going back for either of them. Things would change, and though he could hope for the best, there was still a high probability that everything would turn out much worse. As much as he loved fun and any dangers that came with it, this was a time when he would much rather stay safe. And right now, despite the instability of their future, it was very likely safer than what could happen if they jumped off the edge. Even if they took the fall hand-in-hand, they could very well land apart.

[Vox]

He seemed to be playing with her, and oh boy was she the master of games. The social dance made her eyes twinkle slightly, gleaming with the amusement of it all. But, but...There was a hint of fretting in the very corner of her smile, perhaps a touch of vexation to the quizzical tilt of her head as she eyed him for a reaction. Our dame took it all in her stride as he shifted about, and gave an easy sort of mock-swagger to her smile as she heard his tone, in that 'oh-deary-me-you've-made-me-sad-now-darling' fashion. And he was such an impressive lad, too! With his dark, very dark coat and the gentle accents to the corners of his eyes, mh-hmm. Sileree debated on whether or not to speak quite yet, or whether to simply utter a silvery laugh and raise her eyebrows at his shameless remark, which she found completely charming. Coming from him. "Really now, my little man, you cannot think me so terribly heartless! I shall give you tuppence and a kiss on the nose to wish you well on your way! Goodness knows I have no use for such an excellently able gentleman as yourself, hmmm?" Tones were rich, husky, and pleasantly touched with some honey, though not so much as to overlay the definite accent of acidity that came with the arid life of the dunes. She looked up at him, her steady stare finding his own set of piercing pupils and softening her expression. The madam's eyes were alight with something that could've been pleasure, and just might've been delight as his little comment...But which most definitely contained a love that her heart sent through her eyes, on account of her mind being too caught up on such matters as riddles and games. Mind was lovely, very interesting, and such a beautiful man to have about tea and town...But Heart was better, if a little less articulate, and oh so much more interested in what you had to say. Her neck craned up to his--she being smaller than our dear Error, but taller than poor Tanic, in her child's body--and she allowed her dark nose to nuzzle against his jaw, following it up gently to his whiskers, pleasantly bristly against her own softer pair.

A teasing air about her was now present, and the laughter seemed to bubble rather than burst as she chuckled throatily and pullled away at the last moment, leaving his nose untouched. "I'm afraid you'll have to stay, my little man, with no kiss to fill your body and soul with vigor! Perhaps...Just one night, hmmm? I cannot possibly allow you to keep on your way in such a state." Yes, she knew it was all a game but...Games were so much more tolerable than reality, she thought, and reality was so much more tolerable than the actual truth of the matter. Which was what they were supposed to discuss, that was the way it went, she needed to tell him. It needed to be said, and the longer she waited to say it, the harder and more neccesary it became. One side of her wanted to blurt it out and run way, but that certainly wouldn't do. Another felt it would be best to imitate a clam, see the good it would do. A stress came into her eyes, and her gaze fell down to his dark nails, away from his handsome face; she broke the stare which she had held for her retaliation of wit and masked words. Static seemed to build between their two forms, at least to her, but she paid it no mind. Her mouth was not dry, her words were not lost, she knew what to say, but...It just didn't seem to be happening. But she wouldn't wait for him to get concerned about her well-being, because her playfulness had seemed to evaporate. Happiness, was that what it was all about? If it was really that easy, really about just finding what made her happy...She knew the choice she would make. Knew the choice which would make her happy. But...If it was about service, if she was here to serve, and was destined to be one of the Akina--and she so desperately wanted to gain favor and position in her group, her family--then it was more complicated. Sileree knew what he was thinking. Or rather, what she would be thinking if she were him. 'I would think "Why can't I be enough for her?! Why can't 'we' be enough for her?! What does her Pride have to do with it...?' It was enough, it was! But she loved her sisters, and Lothril was like...Well she had almost hoped to have Lothril as a sort of guardian, somebody to look up to.

That almost sounded comical, coming from the ever condescending matron that appeared to be Sileree. But she was just a little girl, or she felt like one. Was she ready for the decision, was she ready to do something bigger with her life? These thoughts she did not dare show on her face, she had long since learned to quiet them, and only her ears--twitching slightly--showed her conflicting emotions. The almost cold exterior of her smile did not soften when she spoke, as it sometimes did. Like a summer storm, it offered no relief in the morning, but continued, and brought the night on into the afternoon, until things became muddled, and night and day became one. "Thorn... We need to talk." They were talking, why did she need to put it like that? Well because that was what Mother had said to Father when something was terribly wrong. When Sutol had become the King's lady, and his most trusted guard's slut; when Error had been nearly killed, and when Sutol had died; when Dancer had asked what the bushes were rattling for; when Truth had brought the Third back home, and the Third was already the mother of another man's children...Yes, it seemed a habit for him to act Daddy for other laddies and lasses. It also seemed a habit that their whole family was a rag-tag group of misfits and abandoned royalty, forever loved, forever forgotten...Forever taken advantage of. Hmm. Her eyes moved, searchingly twitching up to his face, her sheer blankness startling all but herself, she no longer held back. Open, maybe for the first time, with him--there was no other way to discuss what needed to be said. She couldn't keep lying to him, not him. He cared too much...And she cared too little. She needed to care more, she... She needed to feel more. She felt nothing. The lioness felt...empty. Lonely, trapped in her own head, locked in this casket, this prison that could not be broken out of, unless...But no. Her expression was void, and her eyes seemed to darken as she looked up at him, unabashed and almost longing to feel. There, a spark of emotion maybe? A touch, a whisper of hope?

ooc; I'm not really happy with this post, sorry it's so bad. I don't really feel like she's Sileree for this thread =/...Which seems rather unfair to you. -headdesk- It's as if she's stepped out for a bit, and Athena (a niece, sometimes a daughter) has stepped into her head. The first two paragraphs more than the last I think...I'll try to get back into the mood for her for my next turn, hope Thornboo's still holding on =x.

[Lassiel]

A low rumble of a chuckle sounded in his chest even as he raised a brow at her quick reply. The corners of his eyes turned up with his smile, overjoyed but not surprised to see her catching on. Her alluring voice touched his ears, her exquisite gaze rising to meet his. Little, was he? This coming from the dainty vixen beside him? But the reply on the tip of his tongue faded without a thought, and the teasing look disappeared at her expression. Dark eyes mirrored her own at the open show of affection and love. How quickly such a look unarmed him, rendering him speechless! Her earlier distress had vanished, leaving his lady delightfully bright and radiant while he could only gaze back like the fool he was, all the emotion he held shining forth from adoring orbs. Tongue-tied as he was--something that happened seldom to the daring rogue--he was unprepared for her movement against him, but held expectantly still as her intention registered in his previously muddled mind. Such a jumble of thoughts simply would not do if he was to win this game! But despite Thorn's desire to not let himself be too captivated to keep up with her, he still allowed himself to delight in her deliberate touch. Mhmm, but she was good at this diversion--though he imagined no less--and he pressed lightly into her nuzzle, refraining from doing anything more. Although far from naive enough to tally this seeming victory yet, the roguish gentleman still let himself toy with the idea of her giving in so quickly. But of course--as he well knew--it was not to be, and she withdrew before completing the token of affection, leaving a bemused Thorn in her wake. Her light words landed on him again, and he shook his head slowly from side to side, a crooked smile across his face. "And you say you are not heartless! You're a villian, my dear; leaving a man with such high hopes! But--" And the tone of his voice darkened, turning husky, and rich in its deliverance. "if you promised me a bit more, I'd be more than happy to stay a little bit longer than just one night."

He awaited her answer, eager to hear her response and ready to retaliate with his own words. Towering over her as he was, he looked down at her smaller form affectionately, watching for her response. And thus, he caught her sharp glance away from his gaze as she looked to his paws, but not before he saw the same anxiety from before come over her. This time, the playful attitude dropped immediately. Eyes narrowing out of concern, he dropped his head closer to her level, straining to see her face and discover what bothered her. Had she been hurt while they were parted? A fierce, protective instinct rose at the thought, but he quelled it quickly, telling himself that there was no sign she had come to bodily harm. Briefly, his mind flew to their first meeting and the story she told him--and again, he was forced to hastily calm himself before his agitation became too noticeable. To distract himself, he watched her expression closely, but noticed little. She seemed sure of herself, in some ways....but at the same time, she looked almost hesitant. His brow furrowed, unable to stand the wait of wondering what distressed her so, but as he opened his mouth to break the overbearing silence, she spoke.

Need to...talk? The words weighed on him, crushing his chest with their importance. It was a funeral dirge, heralding the end of all they knew. And he hated it. Hated that they had to talk. Hated that she brought it up. Yet he knew--had known since the beginning that it had to happen. He just didn't want it to. Because all that ran through his suddenly frozen mind was their impending separation. What else could this be about? There was only one thing that shadowed their relationship so much. Why shouldn't she return to her pride now? Because in the end, despite how much she cared for him, he was only one lion compared to her entire pride. And how could he blame her if she wanted the family a pride had to offer? He wanted it for her, though he wanted to be with her just as much. Sometimes, he wondered if she ever doubted his feelings for her because he wouldn't join her pride pride, even for them. Or maybe it was just his own guilty conscience. You idiot! You love her--yet you can't even do this one simple thing for her? And more than anything else, he hated that accusation--because it was true. He was happy with her, truly and unbelievably happy, and he could be happy with her even while surrounded by others. But it wouldn't take long for him to chafe at the restrictions placed upon him, and eventually he would be forced to leave. And the same choice Sileree was presented with now would be pressed upon her. This time though, it would be much more painful.

The smile that did not quite reach her eyes chilled him. Not because of the expression itself, but because it showed she was taking it every inch as serious as he was. Backing up a few steps to give her room, the dark lion heaved a heavy sigh as he sat across from her. "Yeah. We do." He glanced away, eyes focusing on something beside her, and gave a soft, almost sad laugh. "I guess I hoped we could put it off a little longer--a few more years maybe?" A poor attempt at a joke to even his ears, and one he did not expect a laugh from. Silly me. Oh, but how he wanted those years! Wanted them more than what anyone else could offer him. Now though, he wondered if he would even get a few more months with her. Impatience suddenly gnawed at him. Why were they putting this off? Could they not just get everything out into the air now and get it over with? Gaze flashing back to Sileree, he watched her steadily, but with the same adoring look as always. "Well, let's not beat around the bush any longer--have you decided?" The strong voice, though neutral at first, ended on a hopeful note. Couldn't he allow himself that one wish that everything would turn out fine? The tension in the air was thick, and he anxiously waited for her answer. How the foreseeable future played out for him rested entirely on what she said.

[Vox]

Her eyes stared blankly at his feet now, unblinking, slightly narrowed in thought. Pensive, and painfully intense, her gaze was vacant as her mind wandered about in aimless circles. She hadn't even decided what to do, she didn't want to decide! Not only because one decision would take her away from Thorn, and the other from Lothril and the Akina, but because...Because she always seemed to make the wrong decisions? Yes, that was it. But she didn't want to think that way, then she definitely would make the wrong choice. Her stomach was in knots, she couldn't remember feeling so ill ever before, and...Now she thought more about it, she felt terribly hungry. Not physically, she had eaten less than eight hours ago, but psychologically. She wanted to take something and shove it down her throat, claim it as her own. She had never done that before, never been aggressive, passive-aggressive was something else, but never outright dominant. Mentally she felt empty, and she wanted something to fill that hole up. Repulsed, chaotic, and nauseated, she felt sick, though her still fixated eyes did not show it. It was if all the secrets she had held back, all the things she had never said, swallowed down, had collapsed in on themselves, and created some kind of infinitely dense matter, like a black hole, in her gut. His affection startled her out of her reverie for a moment, and her instant reaction was surprise as she heard his husky tones. It took a moment for her to register that they were directed at her, and then another to decide she would not formulate a response. She opened her mouth for a second, before she caught up with reality. Or reality caught up with her and smacked her. She snapped her mouth shut, uncomfortable at the idea she had completely forgotten Thorn existed for a brief minutes. It was selfish...So selfish of her...

Sileree's golden eyes, like lamps in the night, shifted up to stare up at Thorn. His great bulk was blocking the hot sun from her face, and as she looked at him, she saw he had moved away a little, tactfully seeing she needed air. How thoughtful...It was yet another quality she would miss when she left...And she gave a little cry inwardly at the tricks her mind was playing on her. It was trying to force her to make some kind of decision, even if it was not the one she wanted, or even one she was conscious of making. Feeble ideas ran through her head. The first was to run, again, and hide from him. She tossed that one almost immediately after it's conception. The second plan, involving an assault and a shower of love to take his mind off the matter, was crushed before she had even articulated it in her mind's eye, due to his speech. "Yeah, we do." He said. "I guess I hoped we could put it off a little longer--a few more years maybe?" He knew?! How could he?! Oh this was the worst possible thing! How could he? Panic formulated in her head, and her mind was clouded for a moment. Things were not going like she wanted them to go! Damn him, damn them all. Why couldn't they just...Just..."I..How--?" She broke off her bewildered train of thought, and Reason was so kind as to zap her in the side and tell her to pay attention. Oh...Oh she had been so foolish, he couldn't possible know. She had never told him...She had deceived him. But, but it wasn't like that! Honest! She hadn't known herself. Sileree had thought that there was a glimmer of hope for her, perhaps a pinprick of light at the end of the dark tunnel but...Alas, her tunnel was a hole, and she had fallen into it at last, head first. Our madame held her tongue as Thorn went on, and relief flooded into the hole in her gut, soon flowing out of her as she realised she would have to answer the question, not just remark the the sentence structure was very pleasing.

As was the tone that he spoke it in. The lioness wasn't sure why, but she had a natural barrier, a firm wall of tension between herself and Thorn. She had put it up early on, after their first meeting, and never been...Really close with him since. She hadn't wanted to go there with him, because she knew what would happen. Attachment, a pause, truth, anger, grief, blankness. It was her process, it had happened already. Stiff, severe, unrelenting, she would not allow herself to press herself against his chest and relax, or rest her face in his mane, looking for just the right crevice where she might be comfortable for a few moments respite. It...Wasn't comfortable for her though, when she was so close. Better to be far, she could breathe better now he wasn't so near her. A sigh pushed out of her lungs, and rushed out into the still, almost humid air as had developed when the sun lost a slight edge to it's intensity, and she let the words formulate in her head before she spoke. When she did, it was in a flat, yet airy and painfully careless voice. It sounded like the tone a man might take with his son when he has to explain that he will be going off to fight for King and Country and might not be coming back, and that Sonny Jim would have to look after Mama and little Josie, and be strong. Now no tears, wasn't done that way, needed to be a man for Daddy now, okay? That was how she said it. Almost as if she was remarking on a slightly unpleasant bit of weather that had made her cross because it would mean she couldn't have an outing she had planned. Nothing really serious, but just something that vexed her a little, in a calm, easy way. "I am a fallow field." It seemed to echo; through her head, between the two of them, rocketing around in the tense air around the marsh. Her chest tightened until she felt she would vomit, and then she swallowed harshly, and it loosened until she almost couldn’t breath anymore. A rough chuckle came from her throat, and she looked slightly mad for a moment.

One might think she was touched in the head at the sound of her almost truly amused noise. “Or rather...A barren waste.” The news was not good, no need to make it worse by acting all mopey, she thought. Mustn’t grumble, keep a stiff upper lip...Even if every muscle in her wanted to break down and scream. She looked up at his face, her eyes crinkled in a slight grimace, half-smiling, but failing. It slipped off, she couldn’t keep up the play-acting any longer. “I deceived you, both of us, into thinking we ever had a chance of happiness, an opportunity of being together, and I hope that in some way I can...Can make it up to you. Though it would be better if we didn’t—didn’t see much of each other after this.” Her golden eyes met with his own brown ones, and her gaze was steadier than her mildly tremulous voice, and somewhat warmer than usual. “I...Am unable to bear any children. You would care too much to leave me, perhaps, but I care too much for you to allow you to waste your time any longer. You are young; life has much to offer you and...” It was weak, vulnerable, broken, at the beginning. It grew stronger at the end, conviction barging into her melodious rasp. She would have her way, even if she herself hated what it implied. Her eyes grew tender as she watched his movements, tracing the lines of his face with more care than she had bothered to spend on him before. She had always been unjustly teasing with him, from the very start. It should never have begun, and now she needed to end it. Her stomach clenched, and her throat was taken in an invisible steel vice. She finished her trailing sentence. “And I would not wish you to live it waiting on me, who cannot give you any sons.” Pleading, her tone, and more genuine than she had before been tempted to ‘waste’ on anybody. It was time to go, her suitcase was packed, upstairs, he had come back from work with that big grin on his face, and she was sitting there, on the settee, eyeing him. He knew something was wrong, the smile left his jolly face. She never sat on that sofa, not in that way, her right hand supporting her left elbow, left fingers tracing her lips.

Those sad, empty eyes, like a fox who sat under a wet cardboard box, awaiting from the summer rain to stop; those were not what usually greeted him. Something was off, he didn’t like it, he knew what she was about to say...But he didn’t. She did, she knew she was going to go, but...Neither of them wanted it to happen. What would he do, she wondered, slightly fearful, as she watched his movements? Would the man let her go, biting back the things he wanted to say, acting the gentleman? Would his instinct kick in, would he get angry at her daring to leave him? Or...Would he simply catch her up and say he didn’t care about all that nonsense, and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe? But his future, his career...She would sneak out in the night, with her travel clothes smelling like moth balls, and her unpracticed thumb asking for a ride to the airport. Silent tears streaming down her face, sad at first...Then angry, furious at the cause of it all. Her own foolishness. Her own inexcusable idiocy which led her to love those Terrible Three...That was when her life ended. She lived now, a husk, a wisp of her former glory...A shadow. Sileree gazed up at him, waiting for it all to sink in. She would leave him now, and he would be happy once more...And she would sacrifice. It was the Veritas way, though she had renounced the name for another, and she had—in a small way—always known it would come back to it. Sacrificing for the greater good, swaying and bending to the breeze to get by...She never thought it would hurt so much. Though he had only hoped to decide whether she would leave him or not for her Pride, she had steered the conversation elsewhere. She had decided to leave him for his Happiness, and she would return to her Pride, watching at a safe distance, with a wistful air, at what she might have had...If perhaps she had been a touch more prudent as a youth.

[Lassiel]

He felt as if his world was coming apart at the seams, and the longer her hesitation lasted, the deeper his fear at her answer became. Ever eloquent and precise with what she wanted to say, his lady was never at a loss for words. This…indecision and panic in her eyes tore at him. Yet before he could rush on with his words to…to what? Reassure? Buy her more time? It’s fine, my dear. We can talk about it later tonight, or tomorrow, maybe. There’s no rush—we have all the time in the world. But they didn’t. No one did. The young man who waited and waited to make his decisions in life—constantly coddled by those dear to him saying he had plenty of time to decide—eventually hit those middle years. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I haven’t done exactly what I wanted to do yet, but I still have time. No need to fret.’ And he went on, speaking the same words until suddenly he realized he was an old man, and all those years had been regretfully wasted. And having known what true regret feels like—that all-consuming guilt that floods the soul and tears indiscriminately at the heart—Thorn dreaded having their relationship stained in such a way. Better to get everything out into the open air now, before they got more hopelessly entangled in one another. But of course, it’s not like it would help all that much. Thorn was certain that even if he never saw her again after this day he would not be able to forget her. He could have laughed at the thought of forgetting her, if her face had not molded itself into a perfect mask, hiding her emotions and feelings terribly well. She had gathered her thoughts into some form of words, then. How he managed to maintain some form of calm during those excruciating minutes escaped him, but he was certain anxiousness reflected in his eyes.

Her confession was not at all what he expected. His mouth parted a bit and he began to take a step toward her, forgetting his decision to give her room. A strange laugh reached his ears though, and he halted his movements as her few words turned into many, bitterness lacing every syllable despite her attempt to put up a strong façade. His mind worked furiously to understand where he had missed that this was the problem that shadowed her, and he chose not to linger over how she discovered it. Already his head shook at her words, prepared to get the ridiculous notion that she deceived him out of her head. And then her next words struck him, and he felt his lungs cease working and his heart falter in his chest. Better if….they no longer saw each other? As in separated for good? His mind slowed to a sluggish crawl at that thought. Surely she had not already made her choice? ‘I care too much for you to allow you to waste your time any longer.’ Yes…she had decided, and decided long ago, by the sound of it. But how could she? The agonized thought flew through his mind, and instantly he berated himself for it. Idiot! Isn’t that what you asked her—if she had made a decision? Yes—it had been. But…he had hoped they would a least discuss it together first. This affected him as well! Slight anger filled him that she hadn’t thought to include him in this, but his brown eyes narrowed more out of worry that he was too late to change her mind. Yet any bitter retort that rested on his tongue escaped him as he caught her empty and still loving gaze. She was…begging him to just agree, wasn’t she?

He looked away from her face, expression unreadable. She thought this would be for the best, because she wanted him to be happy and live his life to the fullest. She was willing to sacrifice her happiness for his because she believed his loving a woman who could not bear children was a waste of time. Jaw clenched and eyes blazing with determination, he turned back to her, taking in her own resignation. This was not the argument he had prepared himself for, but he would take it on, just the same. He simply refused to lose her without a fight. “And just why is it so important that you give me sons?” The low, fierce tone of his voice broke the silence that wrapped around them at her revelation. “Because it’s the way things are supposed to be? Love does not have to center around having children!” His voice grew steadily louder as he spoke, eyes locked on hers the entire time. He stayed like that for a few more seconds than necessary, gaze roving over her face. She looked heartbroken, but resolute in her choice—which only made him all that more certain of his. If they were to be parted, it would not be because she thought this was the key to his happiness, but because others tore them apart! The air rushed from him in a shuddering sigh and his eyes softened. “Whatever made you think that was my final goal? I don’t even want any sons right now. Yes, I may in the future—but that’s something we can worry about then.” He became earnest then, nearly pleading with her to understand him. “We can try, if you want, but if you would rather not…or—or if it doesn’t work…” Trailing off, he watched her for any sign that she changed her mind. It may be too heartbreaking to try for children and be continually denied, but he was not with her because of a desire for them and would be perfectly happy just being with her. What would he do if she didn’t change her mind? How could he have known this was his greatest adversary?

Still looking at her, he quickly began speaking again, but on what seemed to be a completely different subject. “I was the only male heir of my pride’s king, you know. His one and only son. And yet despite that, my….father—” And here he spat the word out like a curse. “—hated me. No matter how hard I tried, he never acknowledged me, never treated me like the son I was.” A harsh laugh escaped Thorn, and it was an odd sound to be heard coming from him. “Well, he did start noticing me one day, but not in a fatherly way. Eventually, I just left the pride.” Refocusing on her, the lion’s voice regained its urgent tone. “My point, Sileree, is that just because I’m related to him by blood does not make him my father, and…if we want children later on…we could adopt. It would make no difference to me.” And as he said the words, he realized they were true. He knew better than any other that blood relations did not make you family. There were other males that would balk at the idea of calling another’s son their own—but did it really matter all that much? It was not as if he was some king intent on keeping the crown in the family. And he was well aware that many cubs lost their parents to various causes. Would it truly be that bad? Not at all. “Just…just don’t leave. Please.” Sheer force of will kept Thorn from moving forward to rub against her. He wondered if it sounded like he was begging, grasping at straws, at the sands of time that were slipping quickly through his fingers. He felt he was. But at the moment he was willing to do anything to keep her with him.

ooc: Ugh. I'm not happy with this post at all--it felt like there was too much being forced out and Thorn didn't seem entirely in character. But I figured it was about time I replied.

[Vox]

He...He didn't understand. He was...

Almost angry, certainly wretched, and approaching blustering more quickly than she would've thought possible. She had to stay calm, had to keep herself from being rash. Rash as in...The sudden, unexplainable urge she had to press herself against his warm chest and drown out the decisions with a yell, a sob, anything! It was her way of forcing herself to relax. Make herself tougher, stronger, less susceptible to what she called 'manly persuasions'. 'Just say yes...Just a simple "yes, I'll stay.", just do what he wants...Make him happy.' The dreamy voice punctured her vaguely wandering mind, confusion not evident on her face, but running rampant in her head. It was a ransacked village, on fire, children screaming! No. More like a city in the clouds, everything white, blue, grey, hazy, undefined. No air, no oxygen, she couldn't breathe! Mind reeling, stomach heaving, eyes rolling madly in her pounding head. How she would have dearly loved to faint. Sileree had always had a theatrical side, always loved the flamboyancy of the theatre, the delicate frailty of the ladies of long ago...With their secret, hidden strength and resourcefulness. But swoons had the disobliging habit of evading a mind that clearly wishes for it, and springing cruelly upon the consciousness that is on it's last leg and could do with an extra boost of power. Her mind's eye became ever so slightly less fogged, and she inwardly shook herself free of the mental-images that threatened to overpower her and force her into a state of panic-driven hysteria. She liked the sound of that but...This was serious. 'Damn me!' And Sileree shut the unwelcome, tactless, frivolous emotions out. It wouldn't do. She was being a fool, it was unfair to Thorn for her to make this into a game...

He spoke, he made her shiver with his words. Not a fearful shiver, not one fueled by fury...Just a shudder of involuntary 'something' as his voice washed over her. Despite the rather weak feeling that filled her insides, Sileree was too proud to allow her voice to show her tremulous emotions. She had been pleading with him before, her eyes warm and brown, like honey that is freshly from the hive, her face filled with a desperate anguish that she had held back by the lips. It had not worked. Dammit. Damn it all, he was too...Too...He knew her too well. It was not a farce, she had not been playing him false at all, she had merely...Been genuine in one way. Not unstable, not our Sileree, not dangerously manic, or with multiple personalities...But definitely a woman who knew exactly how to control her one personality, how to choose which side of herself she would display. Now she was going for a different side. It was what everybody did, she was no different in that respect. Sileree was simply conscious of the fact she did it. Which, in the grand scheme of things, put her in a great disadvantage. Now she was not pleading, now her eyes looked away from his as she spoke. There was no contact, already she began to separate herself. He had tried to be near her, and then she had driven him to stop, when she laughed in that way she had. Soft, gold eyes, like delicate flakes found in the mountainside and preserved in sweet oils found many different places to stare at as she spoke, each a steady, calm glare. It was now that she told him what was what, now that she played the different part. "I am a selfish person." She said, almost spitting them words out, the angle of her jaw a formidable one. Her eyes burned into a fine blade of grass near her right foot, and she quickly switched her gaze, blinking as her eyes grew uncomfortably hot and prickly.

'“Because it’s the way things are supposed to be? Love does not have to center around having children!” Unreasonable despair sifted through her heart, making it beat irregularly. Control broke. "Because I wanted them!" It cut through the air like a knife, caustic, biting tones dripping from her sharp tongue. She had never yelled at him before, but she had done so, just then. Sileree's eyes had blazed, not with anger at him, but with a seeming fury at the situation she had made him put her in. Tears splashed down her front, and she stemmed the flow with a quick snapping of her eyelids. She hated the way she cried. Her grace, vanished, her breathing came ragged, and the throaty voice of the temptress became emotional, and uncomfortably supressed. Tears ripped away her veil, sorrow bared her naked in front of the crowd. The eyes that had wandered, and then turned to stare at him, ripped themselves away from his face, not bothering to read his emotion. "Because for me...I..." She had said too much already, there was no need to revail Yet Another Fact As To Why He Was So Much Better Than She. Hot guilt, burning embarrassment, sickening revultion at her outburst flamed her icy insides. That which was meant to be cold, unpenetrable, and controlled, melted. It made her feel terribly ill, and the colour that had rushed to her face in the sudden snap of hot temper left it, and made her seem almost pale. Normally inhibited movements grew a little wider, a little more open, a wobble where there was once a perfect arc. He was asking her if she wanted to try. A sad, almost mad sort of smile came upon her face, but it fluttered off of her features before it had settled, and most who would have watched her less intently than Thorn would disbelieve the fact that it had ever been there.

She usually laughed a little when she sobbed, either because she realised just how stupid she was (Sileree prefers to be a hyper-critical weeper, you must understand), or exactly how idiotic her reason for crying was in the first place.This was perhaps a little different. Sileree was not as forgiving as her niece, Error. But she was not grudging, and she in fact, forgave with a smile, a little while after her kin had roughly shrugged off the offense. She could laugh at her faults. But his words. 'Try', in such an innocent little way he had said it. There was always that nasty emphasis when referring to intercourse, she found it an excuse to explode into a fit of silent mirth, bubbling just underneath the surface of those cold, gold eyes. But now, all that happened, was a slight tremour went through her, shaking her shoulders in what might have been a chuckle or a dry sob. "I don't think having a bit of mad How's Your Father would help the matter..." She gulped quietly, swallowing the lump in her throat with some difficulty. It felt like an avocado pit had become lodged in her trachae. "I think...I might be a little second hand in that area." She would have elaborated in company, but she thought he might know what she meant. Sileree imagined a piece of soft fruit, bruised and beaten, unwanted, and then blinked rapidly, discomfitted by how sudden each of her thoughts were. A silence, a touch of air, fell into the conversation. After her little burst of violence, she did not feel in a talking mood. The empty hole in her stomach was still there, though now it seemed to be sucking away all her strength, as well as her control and her humour. His new words startled her a little, and she suddenly felt a little lost, lost for a split second in the converation. It was at 'was the' part of his first sentence that she caught him up on subject.

And that was something she considered as an enormous lapse in her tact, her concentration, and her natural wit. Eyes grew a little less wide, a little less moist as she listened. Thorn had never spoken openly about his past, and Sileree obsorbed the words raptly, her hooded eyes darting over his face, taking in every word. A little start came about her, and her face hardened at the laugh, a drop of ice sliding down into her burning, roiling gut, fizzling down to a vapour that stayed down there, making her feel even more ill. If that was how it sounded when she laughed nastily, she would have to make a note to break the habit. Soon. The rust-coloured lioness didn't recognise her companion's face when he made the unearthly noise, it had transigured him horribly for a moment. Then it was gone, he was saying something else, and this time (despite the fact she had been paying more attention to how differently he looked when he had laughed) she was on top of the first words. But this time, the words were of little pleasure to her. Her tones, she was pleased to hear, were not as laced with tartness as her previous ones had been. Instead, a dull, bitter drawl seemed to take her, each one of her words tediously composed and thrown at the ground at which she stared now, away from the gaze Thorn had locked her in previously. "You sound like my brother. Truth was always willing to 'lend a helping hand' to some orphaned rabbit and I don't know what. Picking up strays well into his years, and taking care of the little waifs..." 'Didn't bother to help me, though, did he? Didn't arse himself with lending a hand to his own sister...Even if I was from a different father. Not my fault my mother 'whored herself out', as Sutol said, or 'made a mindless tart' of herself when Adrian was said to have died in the Wars...None of it was my fault.'

Perhaps she had sounded cruel, and maybe that was why she couldn't bite back to hot, angry tears completely as they glistened in her eyes. She knew it had been wrong to say it but...Could she really loved another's child as her own? Truth be told, she hadn't thought about it much. Could she bear looking at the child and knowing that it wouldn't be there if she had only been a little less foolish? It would be a constant reminder of how she had failed to listen to her mother's advice, how wrong she had been about those terrible three. It would be like having Lilh back again, those few, short months when she had seen the walking mistake. The living, breathing result of her utter stupidity. And she had let her die...Let her go, let her starve as she, Sileree, shivered in a pile of misery out in a hole. There was no dignity in that. There was not relief from the pains she had taken in delivering Lilh, alone, and seeing all the others, dead. She was wrong to want another litter, wrong to ask Thorn to bear that weight with her. For her. She had wanted to share everything with him...But it was now worse than him being a eunuch. And yet...He said he didn't care. Said he would love her anyway. Thorn was pleading with her to stay. Sileree looked up, turned to stare into his eyes. Nothing seemed to work on him, nothing seemed to break his resolve. Defeated at her game, the madame took a resigned tone as he said his last words. "Thorn..." If...What if...But why...And how? All the questions that needed answering, and her head already hurt after the first hurdle was cleared. What was she to do now?

out of crackers! Well...This doesn't feel anything like Sileree, I feel like she going MID or schizo on me but...At least I know her well enough to say 'yes, she can feel all that at once' xDDDD Very large, broad, high emotional range, that one has. We saw the nastier side too...>.> I'll try to make the next one better for you.

[Lassiel]

Anger, not at her and maybe at himself, but more at the situation they found themselves in, uncharacteristically spread through him as her eyes glanced away, no longer meeting his. He felt a gulf widening between them, tearing into what they had and leaving a dark space whose width made it nearly impossible to cross. This...was not supposed to happen. And how childish that sounded, making him cringe inwardly with slight disgust. Young as he may be, he knew quite well that life seldom had a fairy-tale ending. The princess from long ago had died brutally and unfairly, never to find her prince and happiness because a friend had abandoned her at the very end. The king never learned the error of his ways, refusing to repent for his many sins against friend and family. He had let his emotions get ahead of him before, blurting out what first came to mind in his desperate attempt to get her to change her mind. It would not do, and he would have to be more careful in the future. A serious discussion like this--one that would irrevocably change the course of his life--had not happened to him in such a long amount of time and he was unused to the raging emotions that each warred to take hold of him. He visibly calmed, though it did not stop his ears from briefly slanting back as her voice rose, yelling at him bitterly. Her outburst startled him, and, had she continued to look when her gaze landed only momentarily on him, she would have seen the quiet torment in his expression. The tears that ran down her face--the grief that appeared so suddenly and powerfully--tore at him.

He wanted to go to her, to comfort her somehow, but her expression changed as she took in his short story, and he wondered why he had told her so little about himself. It was not intentional...it just happened that way. Nothing ever seemed to lead to it, and so his past remained unspoken. Silently, he resolved to tell her more someday, if they made it through this. But whatever attention his words had held over her did nothing for her decision. When she spoke again, her composure was once more in place, and he did not know if that hurt worse than actually seeing her torment. Knowing what hid behind her wall, he almost wished he could see it, instead of having to pretend it wasn't there. Masks and pretenses were all well and good when it was all about fun. But this....he hated this, shoving feelings underneath a rug when it was vitally important they were known by both parties. He felt his patience slowly being stripped away as each minute passed them by with no change, and her nearly lifeless words, perfectly chosen and delivered, only wore at him even more. He was tired and sick of this--of how they seemed to run about in circles. They were too stubborn, the two of them. Each set in their decision and unwilling to give an inch. It would be funny, if the realization hadn't been made in such a situation. A slight frown pulled at his lips, but he said nothing in answer to her words as he took in her glassy eyes, staying silent even as she spoke his name.

When he finally spoke again, though it was really just a few short seconds that passed, his voice no longer held the desperate pleading it had before. Now his tones were firm, a little dark, perhaps, but with no anger directed toward. Because...he had been unfair, hadn't he? Bringing up the idea of taking care of another's child when it was obviously not something she wanted to hear about. And could he really be angry when she was trying to make sure he would be happy in the future? "I wish you would stop hiding and just tell me exactly what you want." There was no condemnation in his statement, just a weariness that laced the words. She wasn't going to believe him, was she? She wasn't going to trust him to make his own choice about this. Her decision had been decided on and he felt like he was coming no closer to changing her mind. But he could not bring himself to stop fighting, and he continued speaking. His earlier actions had been deplorable, but now his words were calm. No less passionate and true, but no longer grasping vainly at anything that came to mind. He was not like her--not nearly talented enough to show only the sides of his personality that he wanted. He simply knew how to exercise control of the various aspects of himself. "But if what you want is ruled by what you're afraid of..." He shook his head, voice softening as he continued. "You're never going to be happy, Sileree." And like hell I'm going to let that happen.

ooc: Extremely short compared to what we've had going, but I'll make it longer next time! Sorry!

[Vox]

“Sacrifice, sacrifice...” It was more of a musing whisper to herself, as she looked to the horizon, to the sun that was less important to her than the one directly in front of her now. “Life and war need sacrifice. But what happens when you sacrifice your life for war, and you lose a war, so that you may go and live your life? If we truly have one life, and no more, then…We should live it according to what feels right, not what our minds tell us we should do. But, when loyalty comes in conflict with…passion, which one do we choose?” Her eyes were glassy, her expression as vague as her brother’s usually was, now in thought. There was a distinct sharpness about her face which had not been there, not in her moments of derision, or sorrow, or teasing. A look like drawn curtains, a bolted door in a stone wall. “You will not bend to my loyalty, and I cannot renounce it. Where do we go from here, then, if not forward, and on our separate ways?” His words had wounded her, and she spoke in response to them, now more than ever. Her eyes, golden as the dawn, but a sad and sorry as deepest twilight, turned to match his own. She knew them so well, though she and he had never known each other as partners should. She saw a heart as deep and rich, kind and gentle as the dark layers of his handsome face, eyes and all. “We are at a deadlock, my darling. You will not veer from your path, and I, sadly, cannot join it. We have sacrificed everything we can give but our last pieces of stubborn will or fear.” She paused. For a change, her pause was not for dramatic effect, but because she was deliberating on what to say next. There was more to be said, but if it was delivered incorrectly, it would not have the same impact as if she had done it clearly, and with a gravitas which was necessary for the moment. ‘Please define “I”, Sir Thorn. For with Sileree Fen, “I” is a multitude of ladies, ranging from crass to careful, from unaffected to altered.’ Tactless of her to even think such thoughts, but somehow, she was beyond caring. Things did not need to be planned if they were the Truth. They seemed so, but they weren’t. They happened in the way that was meant, and that was all there was to it. It eased her heart slightly to know this, but it didn’t make her feel as though all was resolved.

Her voice, now whispering, though still clear, spoke yet again. “Would you not be ruled by fear, if you were me?” It was a question that begged an answer, though there did not seem to be on for him to give her. Haunted eyes pleaded with him as silently as he had done with words a few short moments ago. Hushed tones drowned in the inescapable flurry of emotions she tried to keep at bay. Emotions were a weakness she had tried to squash out, and merely the sight of Thorn tempted the best and worst of them to come and dance, naked in the moonlight, screaming their mad war chants. Controlled breathing was part of it. If one controls one’s breathing, the demons of raw emotion had no handholds to grab onto. They slipped and stumbled down the slick mountainside of calm breathing, and fell to their doom. Her breathing was as deep as she could make it, but it seemed to catch in her chest, seemed to wring her to the point of exhaustion simply to get out, to escape, and then plunge back in. He might not be there for that much longer. Either because she would drive herself to leave, or because he would grow tired of her tricks and silliness. A patient master and his favourite dog. She plays her games, he thinks it’s all in good fun, but when he’s driven to the edge, the audience learns why she flinches at sudden movements and angry faces. Or so Sileree thought. Reason was on holiday somewhere in Ibiza—no doubt he had shagged and drunk himself stupid and would be sick as a pig for the next few moments—and Logic had stepped into an empty elevator shaft and would be convalescing for the next several seconds. A half violent movement, and the lioness found herself stumbling forward, as a child might when she has skinned her knee, hoping to forget about things for the time, and disappear into a warm embrace. She let herself fall forward onto his strapping chest and breath weakly, pressing her lissom, fevered feeling body onto his stronger one, if it was still there, and if not, then she would follow behind him where he went, trailing like a wounded dog it’s master, until she could stop him and do what it was she had never had the courage to do. It was one of her fears conquered now, at least.

Though the fact remained she had a few more points to stress, a few more stanzas to lilt, a last measure to sing. She had to say what needed to be said, even if it made things as bad as the ‘needed to be said’ words had before. It was the truth, even if she hated it, and she was its vessel, even if she tried to lie. Her eyes grappled for his once again, though she remained leaning closer than she ever had to his body, and she said in a hoarse tone, “I know what I want, Thorn. I know what you want. But our wants, what seem to be our needs…Are they because we are meant for each other, or because we are striving to fill an empty space, and have run out of puzzle pieces? The insatiable hunger, the unquenchable thirst, the dire conquest for our one true lover…Are they for the sake of the journey, the destination we will reach, or because everything else we have tried will not avail us?” Her eyes searched his face, quite dry and without tears, her tone calm, though rather rent by the sort of emotion which only broke her steady speech once in a blue moon. She gazed earnestly up into his face, her own like a golden ray of fixed sunlight itself, darkened somewhat by the intense worry that was etched in its pathways. “Whatever the outcome, whatever the final hour decides…” It was too late to pretend she was not going to say it all along, too late to falter and pretend not to hear when he asks what her original sentence was. “I will always love you as much as I always did, and do. More than my fears, and more than my pride, more than my vanity. And…Especially more than my act.” There was little else to say on her part. It was, perhaps, time for her to make her final escape into a sunset somewhere. And she would have, directly and undoubtedly. Except that…She felt heartless doing that. And it shocked her to realise that that bothered her. My my, a second fear conquered. First proximity, and then selfishness.

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

OOCrackers; I...Struggled with this. Shows, eh? xDD