Noctisardor Bypass I've got a distant memory of previous lives

Like a storm coming. Etienne saw the darkness gather on Anselms face and he felt fear skitter along his spine and then an almost grotesque calmness.

Etienne gathered himself together and lifted his head. A glitter of steel in the golden depths of his eyes. He was tired of this constant battle and that was what this love he held for the mountain born felt like, a war. And he always came out of it on the losing end.

You dare to call me a pretender, Anselm.

There was a cold bite to the words of the seaborn. His tail lashed behind him.

Dis is not some sort of pity prize! Dis is me bein' nice. Tryin' to be kind to someone dat I care about regardless of.

He bit it back. But oh he wanted to rage to tell Anselm that he had taken to bed a harlot of bigotry, that he had given and given and got nothing. But he would not be a victim.

I pretend nothin'! If I did not care for you I would not 'ave stayed and dealt wit' dey abuse over and over and over again! i would not 'ave stayed to smell the sick stench of female in 'eat all over you! I would not 'ave taken care of your wounds or your soul or your poor poor attitude. You sit Dere on your 'igh 'orse and you pretend you are dey victim! W'en you are dey perpetrator.

Etienne moved forward so fast he almost didn't know he was doing it.

You want to attack me Anselm! You want to take your pound of flesh because I left to take care of myself? Den you do it. Go ahead do it. Rip my throat out or beat me to a pulp. But you don't ever get to say I don't care. Because den you know not'ing. You want to know why i left. I left because i love you so muc' dat dey site of you wit 'eda made me sick. And it made me jealous and I 'ated 'er for it. And dat was an unkindness.

Etienne stood in the mountain borns space knowing he may get killed or hurt and not caring because he was tired of this go around.

Do it. He snarled. An uncharacteristic lift of his lip, pearly fangs showing. A hard cold stare.