Making things right

"Dlya vas, kak khorosho."
To you, as well. Why did he wish her a hopeful future? Why could he hand her something as simple as a reflective answer, when the wench deserved nothing from him?
The memories that desired to overwhelm him, to drown him in their endless seduction of unbridled hatred for this dark girl, he ignored. Brushed off as easily as he would a snowflake. Even powerful emotions like that could not have the strength to drag him down.
He damn sure was not going to allow it. He was a Russian, a Russian of a heartless mindset, a pack of civilized savages, murderous martyrs, ruthless reminders of who should be feared. After all, to be able to pierce his heart, one would have to have a clear pathway, and Vector almost fucked up by removing a bit of foliage to his own.

"Stay yourself, Kesuk, and you may yet find your meaning to others."

The recon backed up, his intention to return to the Bypass evident in his action. His Leafy irises stayed trained on her, but ears canted back, showing his attention divided between the two, no longer solely focused on her.

"Anything else, girl?"

The tears only steamed his inner wrath even more, but the steeled will relented against the emotion. There will be no bloodshed, atleast not today. Not on his hide, nor would he cause any on hers. He knew he wouldn't forget her, for she had been one of the first he had toyed with in this dangerous land of emotions. She would come again, and her force would still throb in his mind, but one's brain could only take so many lashings, before it too, hardened.