Kovac's wine-soddened brain had cleared somewhat, though a viscous fog remained. He watched Haya take the cane from his hand, his eyes following as her legs buckled and she slid down to the floor, back against the wall. Then, of all things, the bloody-lipped Drudge grinned. Kovac could hardly make out his own emotional state, clouded by drink, but when he saw the battered, lame, strong-willed Dek collapse and smile wearily, the Avora found his angst slowly being drained from him. The surly archer had belittled her, intimidated her, even struck her. Yet even now, Haya opened her eyes to look at him in amusement. The Drudge had struck something in Kovac's alcohol-affected heart. Confusion, admiration, and acceptance. At some other time from some other mouth, Haya's blunt and honest question would have been rebuffed sarcastically. But the woman had seized on his attention, somehow reaching into him. He looked at Haya on the floor and thought of the Rider Shayth. She too had touched him, somehow getting around his defenses. Funny, he thought, one at the top of the Wind Reach food chain, and one in the dregs at the bottom. And both of them more human than he cared to admit. He was getting soft, he muttered to himself in a slur. It all started with that boy Kellan. Kovac broke his gaze from Haya's, shuffled over next to her and slid to the floor beside her. He tilted his head back, poorly controlled, and it smacked with a thud against the stone. He winced, still feeling the pain through his drunkeness. The archer pondered the situation, the odd turn of events. He felt compelled to answer Haya's question, not so much for her, but for himself, it was a pain to have to hold it in all the time. The Avora's eyes opened and stared blankly across the hall. "I wasn't always like this, or at least this bad." He began in a soft, deliberate voice. "At least I wasn't so bad that I was able to catch the attention of a certain glass artisan. She actually loved me, or so she said." His last words came out with a distant tone. "We were going to join, she was going to move in. When I came home from a hunt the day she was to move her things in, she was already there. She was there, in my bed... with a Rider." Kovac let out a sigh, reaching up to finger the black and red glass earring in his ear. He turned to Haya. His features were honest and filled with regret and even hurt. He reached over to wipe the still trickling blood from her chin with the same hand that had shed it. "I know it is no excuse. It's not your fault. People just tend to annoy me, to remind me that I am messed up. I'm just a half-breed." Shut up! A voice that was much more coherent than the one he spoke with yelled in his head. What are you doing? He had no intention of telling this woman all of that. He had chastised Kellan for being so open. Maybe it was Haya's insignificant position that made it easier, maybe it was how she actually showed some measure of interest, maybe it was reluctant admiration of her spirit or maybe it was just the wine. He pulled up his knees, wrapped his arms around them and stared at the floor. "Gods, I have said too much." |