Otatso Wetlands my life, my love, my drive, it came from pain

Whatever he had expected from her – admittance that she wanted as far from the creek as possible, being his assumption—he hadn’t expected the flare of her tongue as indignation fell over her. He flinched, staring at her – not sure what her words could possibly mean, nor was he sure he should try to delve further in to them. His wife sat at home – untrusting of his loyalty to her, and now, he played with the temptation to further pull Aria’s thoughts from her.
 
She didn’t want to leave him. He was the only happy memory she had.
 
The icy woman before him suddenly represented fire to him – and how careful he needed to be, whether he was burnt by her flame, or the jealousy of his dragoness at home. Neither could be tepid, even with the rain that fell across the lands.
 
What did he want? He had wanted a great deal of things in life; the first and foremost that came to his mind, now, were his children. But he knew she did not mean them – not in this equation, at least.
 
Constantine, instead, chose simplicity. “I want you to stay, dammit,” he seethed out after her, his own form rigid as he studied her.