Ocean's Breath Plateau The wreck of the day

It was not often that the panther found it difficult to draw up some empathy. He wasn't used to that empty feeling, nor to the stirrings of resentment that made it so painful to look at her. When he examined those feelings, he knew it was his own guilt — misplaced or not — that made him want to bristle against her.

He did not know exactly why she was upset. He only knew why he was.

Dutch watched his wife pace while he sorted his own thoughts, his own hurts. He found her blameless of any real wrongdoing, just as he knew he would. This feeling, then, this hurt — it was wanting, he thought. Wanting to be close to her.

He closed the distance, weariness slowly bleeding away to relief, even though he knew that nothing had yet been resolved.

"We should visit your grandmother's island," he said as he drew near enough for conversation. "One of these days. When our babies are old enough to leave with family for a few days."

He reached out, hoping to touch his nose to her silken cheek.

"Mere rani," he called her, whether or not the touch was allowed. "Will you tell me what is on your mind?"