Overture Downs No matter where I sleep

Panic flutters within the cage of her chest, a small bird flapping useless wings. Copper floods over her tongue - the taste of fear. 

She is wrong, urges some hidden part. He is a stranger, a rogue, dangerous. 

The fae flinches as Sorin's skull twists, shrinking as if her pale curves can melt into the frozen ground beneath. Liri's hesitant to raise her eyes to his - too frightened to do anything that might be considered an aggressive or dominant display - but when she does, the healer is frozen by the weight of his pain. 

Grief pools in the verdant orbs rather than the blaze of fury she had expected. An endless abyss of sorrow threatens to drag her beneath the weight of its waves as she stares openly, unable to look away. 

She's seen it before - in the rare glimpses she'd caught of her own reflection.

Before the tundrian can find the words to express her kinship with him in this, he's gone. 

Her pale paw falls to the ground, thumping softly against the earth. Even that noise seems thunderous in the quiet that has settled, broken by Sorin's soft refusal. 

"Alright, then, " the hunter answers, not pushing him. It's not as if she's eager to spill her own secrets. 

Liri almost asks if he will stay, the question shining in her dark eyes as she watches him draw near. There are no expectations lingering there. The shadowed titan is as free to go as she is, though she can't deny that she's pleased when he decides to stay - stretching out by her side. 

The Blackfoot holds herself stiff, self-conscious of disturbing him as he slips into unconsciousness. Her ear flicks towards him though she says nothing, uncertain if she deserves his gratitude. 

Sometime later as Sorin slept peacefully, Liri would turn her head slightly enabling her introspective gaze to fall on his silhouette. 

"Thank you, Sorin, " the whisper of her voice hardly audible as it rasped through the dark. "For not leaving me alone."