Dragoncrest Cliffs i could base my whole existence on the cherry-strands of your gold hair

under lusca's direct stare tachyon melted, practically bubbling into a viscous goop beneath her judicial glare. he waited with baited breath and gelatinous limbs until her scrutiny was done and once she retracted her fierce peepers from his phizog an audible sigh of relief escaped him. her doubts seemed assayed, though by what machination tachyon could not say -- at the very least, there was some comfort in knowing he seemed presentably trustworthy.

it seemed his comrade had a certain disdain for fish --- which was fine, because tachyon had no affinity for fishing. it required a magnitude of patience and precision in spades -- and sadly, tachyon had not been present the day the high orders had handed out such endowments.

unwilling to commit to a certain menu item and then let her down, tachyon kept the answer vague. "we'll see." he hadn't meant to be cryptic, but as he sauntered off to track down a meal he was delighted with the idea that his parting words kind of sounded... rebellious.

cue instrumental music as tachyon exits stage left.

------- *  *  * -------

after a great length of time tachyon returned, his heart fluttering as he made his way back to lusca. he was fearful she would have left -- maybe her agreement was a ruse to distract him while she made her get away. tachyon's lower lip nearly quivered in sadness as his mind enacted out the scene -- faithful man returning, faithless rogue of a sheba leaving -- faithful man's hand in his heart as he collapses in interminable grief.

in his mouth, however, was a meal -- but not a wonderful one. in tachyon's presence there were no five star meals -- only meager ones -- and all the piteous supplicant had reserved between his teeth was the tiny frame of a mouse.