Qeya River sand hollow

she had been more than him.

for all her speaking, all her passion, this was the singular lesson which sun eater took from her impassioned words. she had been far more than him in a world far larger than his own, and he experienced shame. umbrage. throughout her telling had his face grown more hewn from dark stone, until he was a piece of granite when star eater spoke of her choices.

executions. battles. a husband who resented, and sun eater saw himself in that description. she repeated in hope. he found his way back to repression. would he replicate this for her? he did not mean to be so similar.

staring at the scar reminded him that another man had not only touched his wife, he had bonded her, filled her with his children. that they had died twinged him with pain for her, but the pragmatic part of lanzadoii man knew he would not have accepted them.

her choices were new. she had acted out from under her husband, her brother, her blood.

he was new. she had chosen him. sun eater was unsure how he might feel.

"you have suffered as any gut-torn caribou." tortured, tormented over a period of agonizing time. even if he felt no empathy, he offered it voice, understanding it was what star eater needed. muzzle reached to smooth the hide against her shoulders; he was warmed by a thrum of desire and affection. "i choose you. i choose them." but do not ask him to love; he did not know its face.

"now you are safe. know it. i will keep you safe. no more suffering." his voice was low with determined ardency; he pulled her against the beat of his strong heart with a crooked arm. 

"stark save you. why he come to hurt now?" and where was his throne? did it reside here? if so, sun eater knew he was able to topple such an emblem. he must understand now how the future would be shaped.