Blackfridayrule

The Bizarre Patrol

Clearly, this fool Crown had no idea who he was dealing with if he thought he could just announce Rohaan was arrested and call it done. Was this supposed to be a joke? He actually rolled his slitted dragon eyes at the stiff formality. It was an odd thing...Rohaan preferred his enemies to be incompetent to a degree, or else he wouldn't have lived as long as he had. He didn't exactly want them to be terribly good at their job but...well...this just felt insulting. Partly, he was sour about it because he hadn't been in the mood for this game and had really just wanted to go to bed. But even if he'd been in the mood for this cat and mouse game he'd always played, this was just...boring. None of them had any kind of technomagical shielding, wards, or even special gear that might protect them from fire. Sure, they had body armor. That would--oh no--prevent him from shooting them...at least in the chest. But what a lot of Crowns failed to understand is that body armor only protects from projectiles. A body cooked just the same in armor as it did in a hoodie. And, as he demonstrated with the first poor sap, they could still be crushed. He huffed, and a little puff of smoke billowed from his dark nostrils. Didn't they do their research?

Enough of this game, he was tired of it. He would scrape together his things and sleep outside--again--but at least he'd sleep and be left alone. But first, he had to get rid of these pesky Crowns...He took in a long breath, tensed the muscle responsible for spraying the incendiary liquid that lurked in his belly, and--

Music. A little old fashioned for him, maybe, but...music? Crowns were not the sort to play music, and it was getting louder. A vehicle he could not see from his position screeched to a stop, and he heard the sound of multiple doors opening and shutting. Voices. Detective Miller. He'd remember that name for sure. Whoever had arrived was evidently not a cop, and in fact had some tension between him and the Crowns. Some casual banter. And...

He huffed, exuding more silvery gray smoke as he tasted the air with his black tongue. Free magic. He could taste it and smell it in the air, a scent like hot steel that told him that something out there exuded free magic, and not the more controlled technologic. Rohaan snaked his angular black head over so he could peer through the opening of the door with a blue eyeball the size of a lemon. A woman had an odd, ancient looking staff planted in the ground, and as he saw it, he began to form an idea of who these people were. He didn't know much about them, but if they were who he thought they might be, things were going to get interesting tonight. They operated with an arrogance and confidence that the shifter decided he at least admired in a way. It made them more interesting opponents, anyway. But then, he thought with a wicked snarl, every man burns.

Rohaan waited to see what this staff was going to do before striking. It would be foolish to make a move without knowing the situation. So he crouched, harboring a dangerous growl in his dark chest, and waited. A crack sounded outside, and a dark substance began to crawl towards him. Oh, this was going to get interesting indeed. As the dark mass came closer, it split into distinctive shapes. Crawling black bugs. Rohaan actually groaned, and the sound was a low, languid growl in his current shape. He didn't want to have to do this. He was going to have such a nice, relaxing night before they showed up. He was going to slip away tomorrow morning and go off in search of his next mark. But no. They made him do this.

His graphite teeth showed like neat rows of small black daggers as he opened his mouth and without any hesitation, blasted the whole front of the hotel room, paying special attention to the door where the creatures were filing in, with flames so bright they blazed like furious white streaks that streamed from his mouth. The dark of night was deeply disturbed and scarred by the searing light of his fire, and the heat from it was like standing near the open end of a forge. Somewhere at a safe distance away, the hotel owner wailed and howled about the damage, though he was not about to get himself involved in this tangle. The wall that separated the team from the increasingly angry shifter dissolved into smoke and flickering orange fire (as did the scarabs) revealing the smoke-veiled form of a crouched black dragon. The creature's scales did not reflect light, and even the spikes on its neck and its claws were a night black. The red glow stripes were the only contrast in its shape. Those, and the two lapis lazuli eyes that stared down the intruders with an evil glint. The creature roared in defiance; the sound reverberated through the ground like an explosion. And then it was gone.

A man stood there instead. Shirtless, wild blonde curls still wet from showering, and wearing only a pair of dark blue boxers. It was difficult to reconcile the somewhat trashy image of the man with the dragon he had been only seconds before. Except he had those same eyes; they were a shade of blue that nature only gave to toxic, poisonous things. He seemed unperturbed by the fire cracking in front of him. Rohaan laughed, a low, derisive chuckle and he spread his arms as if to dare them to come closer. "Is that it?" he jeered. "Is that all you have?" Another incredulous laugh. "Don't you know who I am?" It was faint, but he had an accent that was difficult to place. A diluted remnant of one that had once been much stronger, and meant that wherever he was from, it wasn't here. One of his ribs appeared to have been broken long ago, and improperly set, because it sat crooked to the others. A pale scar on his side indicated he'd once been shot.

Rohaan snarled, showing teeth. The expression gave him a wild, feral look. "You'll have to do a lot better than that if you want to bring me down! But if you all want to walk out of here alive tonight, you'll turn around and go home." he warned. "If you think I'll hesitate to kill every last one of you if you press me, you're sorely mistaken. But leave me alone, and I might just overlook the fact that you ruined my evening. What's it gonna be? You gonna get the hell out of here, or are we gonna dance?"

Of Blood and Bastards

Rohaan never seemed to have much of a humble air anyway, not by the standards of most people, but as soon as they were within sight of the soldiers, his demeanor notably shifted. It was subtle at first, yet still noticeable as he slouched a little less, his stride was a bit stronger, a bit more purposeful, and he wore an arrogance that was generally the sole province of cats. It was hard to tell if this shift was born out of defense, or a genuine sense of superiority. Either way, Rohaan walked into the pack of soldiers like he was a general come to congratulate his men on some small triumph. At some point between entering the battlefield and addressing Erik, he'd obtained a skin half-full of very watered down wine, though it was unclear exactly when, where, or how he'd gotten it. But he looked to all the world like it was his, and had been his since he'd had a taste for wine.

The shifter tipped the skin back, relishing the flow of the cool liquid down his dry throat. But at the words 'armed transport' he made a face like the wine had turned to vinegar and choked a little, struggling not to spray the wine as he did. "Tevira's tits! Armed transport? What do we look like, fat duchesses? If that ain't the worst way to travel anywhere, then I don't know what is. Humans in general--but even worse, soldiers--are mind numbingly slow creatures..." He took a breath, rubbing his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. "Ugh, fine, fine," he relented. But you've got to provide a wagon or a carriage or something. Either that or the most exceptionally fearless horse you've got. I'll be damned if I walk all the way back to Last Vigil," he said with some measure of melodramatic disdain, as if he found walking long distances banal. "And food. Plenty of it. Any sort, I'm not particular." A good meal--a real one and not just some hastily gobbled morsels from Ash's pack--and a nap in a comfortable place was at the forefront of his mind at the moment

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

Ridahne shrugged gently with only one shoulder so as not to disturb Darin's head. "I don't know. I think readiness is an expectation but rarely a reality. But you'll look back and suddenly realize you've done all this before, or something like it, or that you at least know what you want to do about it. And suddenly the future seems less dark. You'll never escape uncertainty--that's just the nature of life. But I think it will get easier without you realizing it."

The warrior sighed, though the exact tone of the expression was unreadable and mixed. "Well, that's something. Thank you." Fidgeting with her long fingers, she said, "It's not like I don't want either of them around, especially Mrixe. He's a decent man. And if you'd like his company, it doesn't upset me. Not if you wanted it. But when it turned from having a local guide to having a night watch I...well it...It made me feel like they didn't trust me, and I don't mean because I'm a killer. That's fine, I've expected that much. But it felt like they didn't trust me to look after you, and protect you, and...well, if I'm a bad Guardian, then there's not much else for me to be, honestly. And tools without purpose aren't generally worth keeping around. I'm the kind of person that needs a sense of purpose to feel....right. I know you don't think that about me, I know you," she said gently, patting Darin's arm. "But those are my fears in my heart of hearts."

Ridahne let Darin sleep then, and frankly she was glad to follow. She did not sleep entirely well on account of her face, but she did get some sleep and that was better than nothing. She awoke later than usual for her, and some time after Darin rose. Her whole face ached, but as she peeled away the crusty bandages, she decided it was worth it. When she eventually came down to the common room, the warrior had evidently spent a bit of time preening, because her black, wavy hair was silky, combed, and freshly tied in a half ponytail. She'd opted to wear her more traditional Azurei garb--an uri fastened at the waist with a deep iron red silk sash, and a cropped, fitted top that only covered down to her ribs and was trimmed with bone beads--while her other sets of road clothing got cleaned and hung to dry. Instead of new bandages, she simply applied a new coating of salve to her fresh ink. Despite her slightly more done-up appearance, her face was a grim, puffy mask of painful swelling on one side, and it made her look somewhat disfigured. The innkeeper tried to hide his double take, but he did a poor job of it.

Ridahne sat beside Darin and tilted her chin upward, catching the new ink in the light. "Well, what do you think?" Along the left side of her hairline were a series of lines that, upon study and reflection, were almost vine like in their pattern. Branching off it were two distinct marks. One was black, curved, rimmed by precise little dots, and crested with something that looked vaguely starlike. The other was inked also in black, and was a simple outline in an almost teardrop shape. Ridahne pointed to the different elements, explaining the significance of each. "And when my task is complete, this one here will be filled in with white, but in my case the black outline will remain, a badge of honor to reflect the whole of my story, and not just its ending." At some points as she spoke, the words came out a little slurred because her face was too swollen for her lips to form the exact shape, and the resulting sound was a little off.

The Bizarre Patrol

It had taken every last credit on his stolen chit, but Rohaan Ja'aisen got himself a hotel room. It was the seediest, dirtiest, most sordid establishment in town, but he didn't care. For that night, the room was his. Of course, he would have preferred a nicer place, but clean, well-lit hotels usually paid attention to the name registered to the credit chit, and Rohaan did not look much like a Callie. And especially at night, the sunglasses he wore always gave people pause. They could be a HUD. Or they could be hiding something. People never knew for sure, but rarely gave him the benefit of the doubt at night, because one needed to have some amount of money to own something like a HUD. And clearly, Rohaan did not have such funds. So his domain would have to be room 34 at the Wyvern Inn.

He tossed his worn out pack in the corner and kicked off his sturdy but very worn-in boots first, reveling for a moment in the feel of free air flowing through the fabric of his socks before making straight for the cramped shower. Rohaan had a ritual whenever he stayed in hotels: he showered first and foremost, then went about washing his clothes in the sink. He hung them to dry wherever he could, then indulged in a microwaved cup of freeze dried noodles in some kind of tangy sauce as he basked in the glory of having a bed. A hard, springy, rickety bed, but a bed all the same. And a pillow! He never carried one--too much bulk--but a real pillow was miles better than a rolled up hoodie. Maybe one of these days, he thought, he'd have to scout out a nice house in the suburbs, or a high-rise loft downtown where the rich people lived, and find one who's owner had gone on vacation. Then he'd sneak in, live like a king for a few days, and leave. He imagined some uppity human snob's brain spinning as they found evidence that someone had been sleeping in their bed, or eating their food while they were away, and laughed out loud to himself. Yes, he'd have to do that.

A noise on the other side of the door made him look up from the insipid sitcom he was watching, and a moment later, the door burst into splinters. A leading pair of Crowns--the slang term for royally sanctioned law enforcement--rushed inside to find Rohaan Ja'aisen, notorious fugitive, murderer, traitor to the crown, arsonist, and high-profile thief, lying on a squeaky hotel bed in nothing but a pair of boxers, eating a plastic cup of instant noodles. Not exactly very illustrious, or intimidating, but the officers were still wary of him, and for good reason.

Where there had been a fairly content man in his mid thirties, there was suddenly a sleek black dragon showing snarling, graphite teeth as the bioluminescent lines that ran along his spine, the contours of his face, and shoulders, pulsed a dim, dangerous red. Without giving the officers much time to react, Rohaan's angular head snapped forward, catching one screaming officer between his dark jaws. The poor sap had body armor, but that didn't save him from the crushing weight of his maw. Rohaan bit until he felt the body give and heard a collection of snapping noises, then slammed the man down onto the sparse carpet. It was unclear if he was dead or alive. His partner, a woman with orange-red hair, raised her weapon at him, but there were very few people who could do such a foolish thing and get away with it. Rohaan's mouth opened again, but this time a small jet of incendiary liquid sprang from it and painted the woman's chest. The splash of liquid stuck to her skin and clothes like hot glue, and the fire blazed wherever it stuck. Her attempts to pat down and extinguish the fire only resulted in spreading the flames to her arms. She bolted, howling.
There was a cluster of armored officers outside, but they were reticent to pass through the door after that.

Damn, so they'd found him. Probably the stolen chit, it must have been flagged as stolen. Or maybe they had some other intel that let them know where he was. Damn, and he was having such a lovely evening too. Even if he torched every single one of them, the weight of his smooth-scaled body crushed the rickety bed, and that was by far the greatest loss of the evening. He roared, a discordant cry that sounded as if two voices roared at once. One was high and shrill like the sound of glass shards scraping together, and the other was a deep, resonant baritone. It was a deadly warning, and perhaps the last he would give to the others standing outside.

Try me.

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

Ridahne had never considered the fact that the Guardian wrote letters. She supposed, like anyone, he would have people far away he wanted to send messages to, but she'd never heard of anyone who'd received a letter from the Guardian. Maybe only his close friends and national leaders got them. Though she supposed he would have received a great many letters from all over Astra. Did he read them all?

Ridahne shrugged. "I hadn't thought about it, but I guess you would. It's not like you'd be in trouble if you didn't know how to read--there's practically an entire small village of acolytes at the Farm who would be pleased to read messages to you, and dictate them. But I know that's not your style, I just mean you have options. But if you want, we could practice. Alternate nights training to fight--oh yes, I haven't forgotten," she said with what was probably supposed to be a wink, "and practicing reading and writing."

Darin asked about Ridahne's experience the night of her fateful deed, and if it had been overwhelming. The warrior's puffy face twisted a little in a kind of squirming grimace. Disfigured as she was, the expression was profoundly sad. "No. It wasn't overwhelming for me," she said with something that sounded almost like regret. "But then the difference was, for me, I'd been training my whole life for that moment. I'd done it so many times, been trained and drilled and practiced, that when I figured out what had to be done I just..." She gave a shrug. "I just did it. I was a perfect machine of death and of blood and I did what I was made to do. But I think when your time comes to face those challenges, you'll know what to do. At the very least, if you don't, you'll at least know who to ask for help. Sometimes it's good to think of the whole picture, but sometimes you need to focus on the moment at hand, and overcoming one thing at a time. The rest will fall into place," she assured, reaching up to ruffle Darin's sandy hair a bit with a swipe of one hand.

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

Ridahne gave a bitter laugh. "Oh, if I had a drop of rain for every time I thought about that since, I'd have myself an ocean. Why must those of us who work hard to do what is right be kicked and scorned for doing it? But something I've learned since is that it matters to the law, at least, how we do what we do." She paused, then said, "Do you remember Mark, back in Greyrock? You and I both knew he was a crooked bastard and there was something deeply wrong with him. You knew it because of the Seed, but I knew it down in my bones. You didn't see this part, since I'd sent you away. But that whole tavern was full of people. And that sleaze bag wouldn't leave me alone, he kept asking questions. I wanted to cut off his hand right then and there. But I knew that if I did, the whole town would try and string me up. But there's a custom in most places, human lands included, that if someone else draws steel on you, you're allowed to finish the fight. So I waited. And, I'll admit, I baited him a little. I made him so jumpy, like at any moment I'd swing out my blade and cut off his head. I had my hand on the hilt, I was on the balls of my feet, every muscle tense, but never once did I pull out my own blade, not until he showed his first. As soon as he did, I ended him and his cronies, but I guarantee you the constable and the barkeep and everyone else would have been much more upset than they were if I'd started it. The end result was the same, but I didn't start the fight, so they let us leave."

Idly, she prodded the fresh tattoo under the bandages with a gentle fingertip and grimaced a little. She seemed satisfied by whatever she discovered and said, "I imagine it would have gone differently if you'd gotten the elders on your side first. And for me, if I'd have worked with the Sols, telling them what I knew, in time they would have found her guilty and executed her. They would have asked an eija-alihn to do it. Probably me. Ironic, no? But at the time, the Sols had no way of confirming or denying my accusations. But they could confirm what I'd done. They, like me, had limited time in which to act, so they acted on what they knew. Not that it would have changed much--I'd subverted the law regardless, and there was a better way to do it instead. But," she sighed, "None of that accounts for other circumstances. Like the fact that the dog was probably in terrible shape and near death, or the fact that any delay on my end would mean the death of an innocent woman and the destruction of a family." Ridahne shrugged. "That's the price you pay for society. Society requires order, on the whole. Or else we'd all be killing Sols and stealing dogs for whatever reasons we could tell ourselves to justify it."

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

Ridahne studied her, her expression unreadable. "So there have been things you've kept from me. I guessed as much, and it seems I've rightly assumed it was because it was knowledge meant for you and you only. I knew not to press about that, at least. I won't sway you, you know what's best. But I am curious." The warrior let it go at that. She was curious, but not enough to pry. That sort of thing was beyond her, anyway.

As Darin spoke, Ridahne was at first resistant. "That's not--" The words stuck in her mouth, brow furrowed as she rapidly thought it over. She didn't need anyone to fight her battles. No one ever had. No one ever needed to. She'd always been her own advocate, she did not need help. But then, with a sigh, she realized Darin did have a point. It wasn't the same, and she hoped Darin understood that. Martin had left because he wanted to, not because Darin or her mother did anything wrong. Ridahne had done something wrong. She'd earned every part of her sentence and there was no question about it. Yet, she realized, Darin probably didn't see it that way, and she probably didn't care.

"Maybe," Ridahne admitted quietly. "It is different though. I broke the law. I murdered three people. I could have appealed to the Sota Sol and told her of Khaltira's corruption, and they would have done an investigation and put her to trial. And if I'd have done that, I might have been hailed as a hero. But I didn't have that time. If I'd waited even one more night, a wounded man would have lost his wife and caretaker, and a little boy would have lost his mother. It's not like I was falsely accused. If I was, I'd tell you to be as angry as you like. But regicide is uh..." she gave a little nervous laugh, "sort of a big deal. I think you are more angry than I am about it because you only see what they did, and I have to live with what I did. More than that, I know what they could have done. If they thought I was a rabid madwoman murderer, they would have sent someone else to find you when I told them of my vision. They would not have assigned my fiancé as my guard. And," she added, "I brought it on myself. I knew what I was getting myself into and accepted it. You...never had a say. And you did nothing to earn it."

Ridahne sighed again, relenting a little. "But it's not like I expect you to love them, or to be particularly nice when you meet them. I likely won't be. I don't harbor any hatred toward them in particular, none but Khaltira," she said with such disdain that her very words felt like poison. If she were not indoors, she would have spat. "But they have no hold over me anymore. I am not theirs, and I will not hold my tongue for their comfort. And they have no hold over you, either. When we stand before them, I will not stop you from speaking your mind."

She went quiet for a moment, visibly churning over what she wanted to say next. Her swollen brow furrowed as she finally admitted, "I'm not sure I know how to sit back and let someone else fight my battles for me. It is not my nature. But...perhaps I could fight them alongside a friend." Ridahne gripped Darin's hand tightly. "I know I deflect a lot, or defend them, or am quick to admit my own guilt. But nevertheless...it's...good to have someone in my corner anyway. Very few people in Astra are."

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

Ridahne sighed, her anger forgotten. Darin didn't know it even as she spoke, but she'd finally come out and done what Ridahne had really wanted all along. Sure, she'd also wanted her to be there for her ritual. She'd been so excited to show her what it was all about, and to have her take part. But Ridahne knew that if they made it to Azurei, and she married Ajoran finally, then she'd have another opportunity. But Ridahne craved honesty more than anything. Until then, she'd assumed that humans just culturally weren't as forward as the Azurei. She new that the Eluri were less blunt than either the Azurei or the Orosi, so perhaps humans tended to see her people as overly vocal compared to themselves. And that might still have some truth, she thought. But she hadn't accounted for Darin's childhood.

Ridahne had a rough and somewhat unstable childhood, but she always had Hadian, and even though she was teased by other kids, she was able to beat them into civility more often than not. What was more, she had her father, at least into her adult years. She hasn't realized that Darin had spent much of her life more or less alone. The warrior marveled at the fact that they'd been traveling together for as long as they had, and yet she was still learning things about her partner.

Ridahne extended a faintly inkstained hand to guide Darin onto the edge of the bed beside her. Ridahne had to fully turn her body in order to see her, as her left eye was mostly obscured by either the bandage, or her swollen face. "Darin, you beautiful fool," Ridahne laughed softly. "That's all I really wanted from you. You've already done it. Just do it...more." Ridahne fidgeted with her hands. "I understand not wanting to be open in front of everyone. But next time instead of just bolting off like a frightened rabbit, tell me what's on your mind. Even if I can't help you, I've found it's useful to tell someone else your thoughts. It helps to order them. And at the very least, I'll know what's bothering you. Because I really thought you just didn't want to be there with me tonight. And I couldn't understand why. But now I know what was on your mind."

There was a silence before Ridahne finally brought up something that she'd been chewing on for a while. She'd thought of different ways to approach it, but she couldn't think of a tactful way to bring it up, so she dove right in. "Your father," she began. "I think he got off too easy, running off the way he did. He never had to see the consequences of what he'd done. But..." There was a wicked gleam of moonlight in her one visible eye. "You do understand that both when I was an eija and eija-alihn, my job was to track people down. People that didn't want to be found. I know we have a job to do. But someday it will be done. And when it is...Nothing would please me more than finding your father. And I will show him fear."

Of Blood and Bastards

Rohaan shrugged with a self-confident pride and his classic Cheshire grin. "Eh, I've got more than a few warrants out for my execution that say otherwise." This was a point of pride for him, obviously. He reveled in every rebellious act against the empire, and perhaps even society itself. Each one of those warrants meant higher stakes, a bigger reputation, and were a badge of honor that reflected the audacity of his ambition. The fact that he'd avoided paying his dues for his crimes for so long, despite the long list, only added to his joy.

Rohaan closed his lapis eyes and leaned his head back against a blackened pillar of stone he was using as a backrest. He said, as if to himself, or perhaps to an audience he knew would never listen to him, "A brute I may be, but was I always? Did a brute create your hatred, or did it create him?" And then his eyes snapped open and he said, "Aye, you'll get her, and I'll see to it you uphold your end. I've no faith in your character until it's done."

The shifter lazily tilted his head to look over at Ash. "Well then, it seems we've got an appointment with this Erik of Strosberg fellow. I've no idea what Lynch is, but I'll wager he won't be able to do it to me. I'd like to see him try." He chuckled. His tone when addressing Ash was decidedly less derisive than when he spoke to Valdemar. Clearly, they had some unsavory history. Not directly, perhaps, but Rohaan and the Empire as a whole had been at odds before Rohaan even knew how to speak their language. As far as Rohaan was concerned, any official of the Empire was a sworn enemy. He had to remind himself that would be Ash too, pretty soon. And all he could hope was that she would be less of a tyrant than her father. "We'll be seeing you soon, Valdemar. I suggest you dust off the imperial seal and get it ready..."

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

As Darin spoke, the tempest inside Ridahne stilled. She could tell Darin felt terrible about the whole thing and Ridahne didn't necessarily want to make her feel worse. That wasn't her goal. She sat up against the meager headboard and gingerly laid the back of her hand against the bandages and the skin that burned underneath. In comparison, it felt cool, like the splash of an ocean wave on a sun-baked stone. The warrior sighed, long and deeply. It was as much an expression of her emotions as it was a release of the tension she'd been holding all night.

"I would have helped you and guided your hand, you know that. But if you'd just told me...I would have understood. Really, I just wanted you to be there. Not many outsiders even see an ojih ritual, and especially not one that alters the course of Azurei history. Not to mention, this particular one involves you as the Seed Bearer. And I'd be lying to you if I said I wasn't a little disappointed I didn't get to share that with you. And maybe I could have waited but I'd gotten everything all ready, and I was...you know, mentally ready and I just felt like I needed to do it tonight. But that's not why I'm upset. Not really. It's not that you weren't there, it's more that I don't really understand why."

Ridahne paused, searching for the right words. After struggling for a moment, she switched over to Azurian, where she could express her thoughts more clearly and naturally. "You are my friend, Darin. I care about you, fiercely, and not just because you're the hope of Astra. But I need you to be open with me. You ran out on me twice today. That's a habit of yours, running. Something upsets you and you bolt off into the blue like the whole world is just this safe, harmless paradise of solitude. Aside from the logistical dangers of that like getting lost, or running straight into the hands of evil people, running like that doesn't solve your problems. I get needing space to sort out your thoughts, but running from them? Not only does it not help you confront your fears or worries, it alienates those who want nothing more than to help you."

She shrugged helplessly. "I don't even know why you ran off tonight. Was it just the ojih thing? Is there more? I don't know, Darin. Do you not trust me? I'd rather see some ugly side of you than only see your back. And how can I help you and be there for you when you won't let me in?" She fidgeted with a loose thread of her blanket, curling it and uncurling it around her slim fingertip. "I just want you to talk to me. To be honest with me. And...I don't want to feel like a thing intentionally left behind."

She tilted her head back to study a board on the ceiling that was a little lighter than the others, her expression somewhat petulant as she switched back to common Astran. "Anyway, I had all of those thoughts and feelings, and I was going to follow you, but then Mrixe had the gall to interfere and Darin, you would be so proud of me, I did not punch him." There was a note of humor in her voice. "He's a fine enough person on his own," she admitted. "But I chafe at the implication that either I'm a dangerous animal to be handled and managed, or that I'm doing a poor job as Guardian and need someone else to do it for me. That's the other reason I'm upset. Not your fault, but I did sort of snap at you and you deserve to know why."