Overture Downs No matter where I sleep

Sorin's gaze searches hers when he can, trying to figure out just who this woman is, what she has been through. Her scars tell a tale of violence, but it is not the scars on her pelt he is interested in. He knows that scars on the heart are the worst, that scars on the heart are what truly shape character. And so he searches for those scars, deep within her gaze. Sorin knows his own gaze also contains those same heart scars, that if she is observant she will see them. But the fear of revealing those scars, fear that had dictated his actions for some time now, was not as strong as it was before. Perhaps it was because he sensed someone who could truly understand the depth of how broken he was. So as he searched her for her pain, he made little effort to mask his own.

"Yes, they often are," he responds softly when she laments about the night. Nights, especially nights when no stars shown, had been tortuous on occasion for the shadowed man. The battle that raged constantly in his head seemed to reach its peak as he remembered that all the nights she lay beside him had been a lie. And as he thought of her, his mind betrayed him, and she whispered her poison, reaffirming the lie she had strung him on. He shook his head, growling imperceptibly to himself, but he couldn't force her to retreat.

"Well, I suppose that makes two of us," he said lowly, still somewhat shaken by his mild mental struggle. He struggled to keep his tone friendly, as she tried to anger him, to drive the fear he had held so dear for so long to the fore. He knew that his subtle shift in attitude might be terribly confusing for Liri, and hoped it would not drive her away.