Sequoia Coast [m] and on the floor i'd be lying cold, lifeless

his smile was easy. "it's not — it's hard to resist. i'm still a man," he admitted earnestly, meeting the smoulder of the gaze removed from his rejection.

beside him, a small hide wrapping of dried meat. he moved the pouch, offering it to the woman. "i just see — beyond that. beyond me. beyond you."

he could at least appreciate her beauty, but outside the treacherous response of his own mortal self, she was lovely in the same way a flower was, or a sunrise, or a waterfall.

sensing she might not appreciate these comparisons, he kept them to himself. "you'll find a man who — a man with fewer hesitations. you'll couple. you'll conceive. what happens next?" he asked softly, rhetorically. "your children grow. you have a long life, perhaps more of them. and then what? then the end of your life comes, and you go back to the beginning. reborn. renewal. i see that process — all at once. for everyone, all the time."

his smile was wry. "keeps me distracted."