Sex: Malehahahah Datass and whiny boy bands......
you do not know who is your friend or who is your enemy until the ICE breaks. "I don't — I don't know!" Ice remained sitting, ass plunked down on the cool snow, and sighed, thinking he'd never be able to make heads and tails of this. No matter what approached he tried they'd probably always come down to this: his guilty detachment, and Datura's tears and screams. His thoughts chased themselves through the empty canvas of his mind, blank in the face of this emotional irrationality; he could sit here, and wait, but aside from that, there was nothing he could think of doing to mend what damages he'd done by always picking the wrong things to say. His mouth was still firmly shut, and he peered up through the brightening light, wondering if he, against his better judgment, should say something again.. but was robbed of the opportunity when the youngster suddenly started shouting. Ice's ears flipped up, then fell back slightly. And slowly, it began to dawn on him why all these subjects had been bad to begin with: it all came down to this, the sister of who left him. At least all of their list children had been taken. Swift River did not have to live with the knowledge that they were left, out of a free will. Torrel had been so young and impressionable - too young to take from his mother, yet Indru had done it. And Rissa... Surely she would've preferred life and happiness, over the cold, cruel death she'd received. Aiyana.. who could tell what passed through the black wraith's head? Before Ice had a chance to say anything, react other than by staring mutely, Datura shook his head, turned tail, and ran. Ice's mouth froze half-open, strangling a wait in his throat. What would the point of calling him back be? To torment him further with clumsy questions? Perhaps this was for the better... The wind shifted, to touch golden fur and pull it down; it swept against Ice's face, into his dark nostrils, subconsciously picked apart and analyzed. Slowly his muscles tensed up, the fur of his spine and neck standing erect. A snarl bared his teeth to the innocent morning sun, pale eyes boring into the place where the golden boy had stood. Datura Aquila. Naira's get, conceived in the Sacred Grove she had abandoned in the night, like a villain, a thief. He'd been meaning to comfort her son; the thought made him feel sick. Another gust of wind, empty of smell, battered against his head, and he gave it a shake. He had more important things to do than relive old hatred and bear pointless grudges, hollowing out his heart. Sighing, Ice Aesir pushed himself off the shimmering crust and retraced his steps out of the plateau, resuming his pathfinding. .ice aesir |