Bramblepoint But I miss you in the mornings when I see the sun.

The next question that came was unrelated, unexpected. Viinturuth felt a muscle in his jaw give a subtle twitch; to anyone else there would surely be a simple retort, but from him came beat of contemplative silence. He knew what to say - no - but found that he didn't want to give voice to his status. It was a deeply personal topic for the pale Frostfur-Mayfair, though after a long pause he released the gritting of sheathed fangs to speak it: No.

He lowered his burgundy gaze to the leaf-littered earth earth then, and thought solemnly of the long years through which he'd failed to settle.