Swiftcurrent Creek I love you will still sound the same

Lecter preened the bulb of one ear, pleased to have her against him once more. The very marrow of his bones had called out for Jinx during their separation; he did not wish to endure the agony of her absence again, regardless of how she favoured him. But with her very actions, the shaman felt that his pearlescent Mambo returned his love, or at very least cared deeply for him. Surely she would not have cleaved unto his side had she not.

"There are too many dark spirits here now," Lecter murmured in a display of solidarity for Jinx's decision to depart the Creek. With the flaring insolence of the Vale, and Fox's unwise refusal to cut them down preemptively, before they struck and maimed the Creek beyond repair, now would be the most prudent time to leave.

Mentally, he arrayed a list of those whom the Kesuk would bring with her — Ira, for certain, and perhaps the dark male. Unconsciously he bristled at this possibility, but he would honor her choice. There were, after all, many subtle paths to killing a creature for whom he did not care.

A mountain. Lecter thought briefly, wistfully of the sprawling beach that had been Shearwater Bay, but his mind quickly arrayed the vast advantages to living upon shelves of rock. Seclusion, above all — it had been too long since he had been able to live without the irritation of constant visitors.

"It sounds worthwhile, my love. I will remove myself to this mountain with you." Pale muzzle, which he had lately realized sported hairs of almost colorless silver, something he had not noticed before, pushed gently against the crook of Jinx's neck. "Only let me die there, Jinx. I am weary of wandering." He would never cease following the Kesuk, however, no matter where she uprooted her band, Lecter would follow.

It was perhaps the first direct referral to the years between them to which the witch had made mention, at least in recent memory. Jinx was vibrant, filled with the ferocity and light which illuminated her every action and lashed those around her with fear or verve. Beside her, Lecter faded into shadow, but it was a dynamic he had always loved, that her light outshone his own.

"I wish to be yours, Jinx. I wish for us to belong to one another, in title as well as word, if you will have me." Pensively, he withdrew to seek the fire of her eyes with his own, unsure of how she would respond. "Speak truly; my love for you will not diminish." But neither would he ask again, and Lecter trusted his young lover knew this.