Moonspear But we're not the same

It did not even occur to Charon that she may not understand what he meant by his losses. He meant her, of course, among many who had since turned their backs on him. Yet he could not tell her that, for the reason he spoke in riddles was that he did not want her to know how much she had meant to him and how much it hurt him to see her at all. Even though he had gained a mate that fateful night, he felt like he had also definitively lost a friend. Yet, she was here on his doorstep, and perhaps that meant it was not entirely true?

Her next words were more riddles to his ears, because he could not understand if she meant them as seriously as they were posed or if she intended for him to grab the bait, snap so she could reel him in and pummel him across the face once more with what he had lost — her. "With respect," he said, a hurt shimmer in his eyes as he spoke, his inability to understand anything she said clear in his hoarse voice. That was all he wanted; respect, and love. He waited for her response once more, the ball in her court again.