Stavanger Bay come wayward souls who wander through the darkness

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deirdre felt lost as he revoked his words in the matter of a sentence. but they had already unlocked something within her, and she frowned deeply--the expression not at all detracting from her loveliness--as he spoke more harshly toward her.

why? why do you speak, and then not follow through in explaining? i know i know little, and i know i have much to learn, she admitted this freely, softly, but that does not mean that i will not understand. i was always taught that to assume is a very foolish thing to do, and i would never assume anything on your behalf. you are angry with me for what you think i do not know--when you will not even say the words for me to know! her soft voice grew impassioned as she fought against his behavior toward her, that had come unbidden. he had not given her a chance, not at all, to truly know. did he not understand there were thousands of words in the world to fall into? to think? that he did not think an alliance might work, that he was afraid and feeling different than merely a protector... was she wrong? ah, that thought wounded her youthful heart. perhaps he was angrier still for assuming that he dreamed of her. i assumed... i did assume... that... well, she could not even say it, not wanting to risk his anger again. she felt the fool, for following some silly romantic notion that somehow she had found her special one. but how could that be? how could one look at her in such a light, then, and see her in such a way?

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