Arrow Lake like paper love

stigmata couldn't help but feel that he was being misunderstood most of time. he coped with this disparity, in more ways than one, but he didn't often feel as if he were at a loss for it. and never had he felt it as gravely as he did right now - at ketzia's cold behest. he eyed her warily; his jawline taut as he tried to use his battle-mind for something as delicate as needle-point.

he found himself growing more and more frustrated with the task as he fumbled with it. "of course there was true harm," he objected, more sharply than he intended. "but these scars cannot be seen, and yet i know they are there anyway." the general - propped up tensely on an elbow and half-strained towards her - looked upon her beautiful, haunted face, and felt his own expression cave to sorrow.

the tungsten wolf sat up slowly, never once relieving her of his all-consuming gaze, and as he did so, he spoke. in a tone bitter, impassioned, and wrought with both adoration and despair:

"i was not raised to take a wife or be close to my children. i know nothing but how to protect my wolves, my land, and was taught to love no body except my own. these are things i have based my entire life on, yet... when i look at you none of that makes sense... how could i not love you? how could any stretch of land be more important than you, or any comrade compare to the satisfaction of having you at my side? how could i care about anything else except looking into your face for the rest of my life?"

he swallowed thickly. "and what good was all the training i endured if i still cannot protect you?"