Tormented Tarns footprints on the sand

He was building a wall in his head. One between himself and Dahlia. Yet, the bricks came tumbling down one after the other. He would remain electrified by her presence. He would continue his dance with honor and capability. Could rarely implied one should.

She makes a bold proclamation about him. If only she knew. He wasn't as honorable as she thought. Maybe in some ways--and maybe he was. Though he stayed in a place mentally holding on to his past and the missteps he had taken then.

He knew what almost anyone else would've done. Ravaged her and left her with the consequences of falling to momentary desire. In all fairness, it wasn't something she had power over herself. Collision wondered what it was like. To be slave to your own body--betrayed by an animalistic force that lived inside. Governing a permanent decision. Then again, he too, had almost fallen to it. And the encounter wasn't over.

"I'm Collision," He bowed his head. Focused closely on breathing long and slow breaths. To give him some modicum of control, "I don't belong to anyone or anywhere," His ears were lain back now. Almost ashamedly. Perhaps that would also bring her to an understanding--you wouldn't want a futile vagabond to be the bloodline of your progeny.