Greatwater Lake Not the Man I Once Was

Well that didn't necessarily make her feel any better. I suppose you have to in order to form an alliance, she answered, hiding the unease she felt about it. She wanted to ask more about his allies, but she wasn't sure he would tell her now that they were on opposite sides of this brewing turbulence. Plus it really didn't matter, did it? 

Of course she caught the fleeting proof in his gaze that what she said had affected him; her eyes were locked on his, searching for emotions he might be trying to hide from her. And then he looked away, and she knew he was battling with something—a battle he didn't want her to see. Seeing him this way hurt her heart more than she had been prepared for. She touched her nose to his jaw, leaving it there only briefly as she tried to comfort him. 

But the comforting touch was all she could offer him as his next words made her heart sink in her chest. He was right: their morals were too different. Her scale of right and wrong was vastly different from his, and it would continue to cause problems for them. His views were deeply ingrained as were hers, which made her wonder how plausible and sane it was to think she alone could change him. No matter how much of herself she gave to the cause, would it matter in the end?

He looked away again at her admission, and she wished things were different. She could see he was conflicted no matter how hard he tried to hide it because she was just as conflicted. When he met her gaze again, her expression would be sad once more. So neither would pick the other over their packs, but neither would hurt the other one either—she felt it went without saying that she wouldn't be able to hurt him if it came to that. That realization would torture her long after their conversation today. I don't know where that leaves us, she said quietly. They were in an impossible situation. This time, Simmik looked away. She couldn't meet his gaze anymore; it was just too painful.