Returning to my Muse [Kavala]

[Sorian]

Day 50 Spring, 510 AV It had barely been a season since he had fled away from Sanctuary, and yet now he finds himself trudging along the lonely grasslands of Cyphrus, hulking breathlessly in anticipation for an embarrassing series of sermons, a world of painful words, perhaps a slap here and a smash there. In the many nights in solitude and neverending grief with himself and with... 'his other self', his blank and empty mind had been threatened to turn feral once more. And how that distinctly dark part of himself relished the thought, drove into his mind like a spear searching for a particular organ to stab, trying zealously, viciously to push his sanity out of the door. He had almost succumbed to the temptation, the madness which he was so infused and enthused with. He wanted them to become one, he told him. But he was not fooled. For all the simplicity of his thinking and the lack of development in his mind, he knew what the cunning, darker side wanted. He wanted him to be the same, to be subservient to him. His malice was cleanly hidden behind the raucous antics of his brief showings of concern and domesticity. All the time his mind had been locked into the very thought which he had showed them both. Despite the doubts, the fears, the anxieties and the worries, the distraught Akalak had managed to keep his own half of their shared consciousness away from him, and the dark ones' away from his. And he had been right all along; he had simply wanted to get away, to be rid of the one last strand of dignity that he has held onto. It was another eternity spent in cold black hues, and in the course of hia mental suffering, he had all but forgotten the sweet scent of her sweat, the flush of her long white hair which was often bundled around her nape, those distant blue eyes that could shame sapphires into wastefulness. And now the very fears which had forced me out of the niche which I have carved in her life is leading back to it. She had been that one fateful mystery which his clandestine life had become attached to, the only ward he has had since his fall from grace all those years ago. The dawn of a new morn that had rescinded his soul of its guilts, even if for but awhile. Her name is Kavala. Will she accept him back into the fray? He truly did not know. However it was clearer than Syna that he would much rather suffer her anger and her rejection rather than endure the malicious chiding of his inner self without even trying to silence it. She had been the only one with the power to silence him, to draw from him at least an illicit bit of interest. And while he feared that his own dark side would threaten to swallow her whole, to digest her and to rid him of her presence forever, he felt like he was much more ready this time. Another term in hell has done him a great deal of wonder to ponder on. And what of the guilt he had and the horror the other one possessed towards women they had both held onto? The long, winding laceration in his arm reminded him of the very first encounter he had with her, or rather, his other side's first encounter with her. It ended quite awkwardly for both of them, much more so for her because it was the humiliating taint of rebuttal which he had lashed her with, and if only in emotional terms it surely would have hurt her more than he had hurt himself with the blunt kitchen knife his other side had stabbed him with. The memory is hazy since he himself wasn't the one there doing it, to put it in a way. For any person more intelligent, maturity and humaneness it would have merited a very humorous chuckle of disbelief. But he was not one to smile often, much less laugh. Humor to him is a truly strange thing, given the endless suffering Lhex had bestowed upon him. Despite his improved mental state, his body had fared rather poorly against the elements in his second sally against it. His refusal to kill and eat sentient beings has made him quite a bit weaker; his muscles no longer bulged and danced in grotesque fashion everytime he flexed them, now they seemed more placid and calm, perhaps even softer to the touch as they are in the eyes of familiar people. The pale blue color of his skin had not changed, although the scars were more noticeable now, with flecks and blackened slits pock-marking his arms, legs, his back, his chest, even his face. It was as if he had been ripped to shreds by some powerful creature of the night. Yet in all of his great strength, and despite his weak will, he survived. Except for a few encounters with beasts here and there--encounters which have left their marks on his body in grisly forms, such as the massive puncture marks on the side of his chiseled abdomen--it had been a lonely and uneventful existence in the wilderness. As the mist of the dawn cleared and the sun began to glaze through the meadows, his eyes of shy blue saw the tiled roofs of Sanctuary peering over the distance, looking so much better than when he had left it. Kavala was surely going to kill him for leaving all that work undone before he went, and his stoic features winced momentarily at the thought. But as surely as he was about to be embarrassed by Kavala--or worse, Akela--at the very least, deep within his soul, he had found out that exactly what he had been looking for had been right before his eyes, right under his nose. He found himself staring at Sanctuary's great stone arch entrance once more, reminiscing of the first time he had crossed over into the wide courtyard which had been devoid of proper arrangements then. it was now clean and orderly, with the fences fixed and the wooden beams repaired and re-painted. A deep breath forced its way out from him before he set his foot into the ground, instantly feeling the nostalgia of the past flooding back. He was home, and he was not going to leave it again. Not unless Kavala sent him away for his ingratitude and lack of manners. The Akalak walked over to the stable, where he found Savik and the other mares sleeping, animal breaths lingering in the cold spring air. He touched the door of his favorite stallion's pen, letting the touch of its wood rekindle his memories of caring for them. He had even helped one of the mares give birth once, almost a full season ago. When Savik stirred, the shadowy figure left for the apartment door. With the sun only having risen, he was sure that every one in Sanctuary would still be sleeping. He started debating to himself whether to knock or not, hesitation pulling is huge fists over and over again just as he was about to do it.

[Kavala]

She'd been at it all night and was exhausted. Velvet, Sanctuary's Milk Cow, had been trying to calve. The cow had went into labor early in the afternoon the day before, but hadn't progressed at all as the day waned and the sun dipped. Normally, she should have lain down and started intensive labor only hours after her first real contractions. But, as the day progressed, nothing else did, except for the cows discomfort. By nightfall she was streaming milk, and by full dark she was moaning in pain. Kavala had realized, soon enough, that it was a life or death situation when the milk cow had run out of strength and finally went down in her pen to only groan in misery. Kavala had treated her with birthweed, which was often strong enough to get labor progressing again. But when that had failed and the Konti knew she was going to loose the cow if she didn't act - the healer went into action. One flaw to being a Konti was strength. Kavala failed miserably at being tough or strong... and birthing calves took a lot of strength. She'd had to slip her arms, up to her elbows, into the cows womb to try and see what was wrong. And when she'd counted eight legs instead of four it was readily apparent. Twins. Both were twisted out of place, and trying to be born to a mother who pressed them repeatedly up against her pelvic girdle instead of expelling them down the birth canal. Kavala had no idea if they were even alive, much less if she could get them out. And looking at the time spent already in labor, Velvet would die too. Birthing chains were fetched. It was a harsh practice, but often the only practical means of helping a cow birth a calf if one was Kavala's size. The chains were fed into the vaginal tract of the cow and deep into the womb. The Konti had to go by feel, hoping to find a nose and follow an arch of a neck down to forelegs rather than hind legs. Once discovered, the limbs were then wrapped - one each - by the chains and the healer retreated. The chains ended in strong handles which allowed the Konti to brace herself on the cow's rear and pull using the chains. She'd carefully put the calf's nose in position and so with her constant pulling, she could aid the mother in delivering. It was a hard one fight because not only did she have to do it once, but there was a second calf and a second attempt. Both were born alive. Kavala could barely believe it as she toweled them off vigorously and cleaned out their airways. Cords were cut and mucus cleaned off heads while alcohol was used to coat the cord stubs. Kavala fought hard, fought for all three of their lives... and once the babies were on the ground, there was yet another battle too attend too. She had to get Velvet up so the calves could nurse. It took three more hours of the Konti doing everything she could think of to get the cow on her feet, including treating her with energizing herbals. Finally though, with enough perseverance, Velvet got up took an interest in the calves, and began nursing them. And so it was the little Konti woman was sitting in the near dark of the slowly rising sun and staring forward out into the courtyard, exhausted and covered with blood when Sorian approached. He didn't notice her immediately because she sat as still as death, unmoving, and was far paler than normal. Blood covered her tunic and leggings. She'd kicked her boots off, but they too were coated in the cows birthing blood. Her hair, caught up in a ponytail, had partially worked its way free and some of it was now pink with a stain that had nothing to do with the color of the sky as the sun rose. Dressed like a boy, unaware of her own grace, Kavala simply sat - nuumb - too tired to care what she looked like until she could regather energy to move and clean up. Dried blood covered Kavala and exhaustion infused her. She had wanted a bath, but the warmth of water the bathhouse promised was too far away even though it was only steps from the Veranda. Instead, she just stared numbly, more asleep than awake. And seeing Sorian, of course, didn't surprise her. She didn't think he was real. The tired mind played tricks on its owner, and so Kavala assumed this was one of them. Besides, the big Akalak brothers wouldn't be returning so soon would they?

[Sorian]

Hesitation draped his pale blue face as he faced the wood of the apartment doors, raising his massive fist and lowering it in several successions before finally deciding against it. He surmised that she'd already be livid enough to see him, let alone waking her up. Sorian sighed in his aloof thoughts, raising his eyes to the glint of the dawning sun to gauge what time it was. In the wilderness the light was one of the very few things which kept his sanity intact amidst Navis' endless tirades and tortures. The dark one had been a bully through and through, and never had he been more condensing than their last flight from Sanctuary. Though the endless darkness, the morning produced at least an inkling of comfort, knowing that at least his vision and his mind would be less constrained by the heavy images of past ghosts and sins. He had walked from the vast forest wilderness of Syliras non stop since he had decided to return, stopping neither for rest nor food. As such he was parched with thirst, famished with hunger and torn by fatigue. It was usually in such circumstances when Navis reigned supreme over their consciousness, yet for some odd reason he had been quite silent. Perhaps he had wished to give Sorian some leeway since he was back in friendly territory, and for it the older, maligned half of their duo was both begrudgingly thankful and infinitely relieved, Sleepy, tired eyes wheeled back to the courtyard as he walked awkwardly to the center, priming himself with what he would say to Kavala once they face each other. Will he be apologetic? Headstrong? Honest? He did not know, nor would he be able to rehearse, for no sooner had he begun to think did her slumped and emaciated form greeted his eyes. Sorian's eyes widened with shock at the sight of her, with her blood drenched clothes and ghastly, static gaze. For a fleeting second he stood frozen, staring at her as she stared back at him with her obviously unaware eyes. Perhaps she didn't recognize him with all his battle scars and his slightly smaller, more slender form? He started to inch closer, the familiar slouch now augmented by a very cautious stance. "Kavala..?" his concerned, yet weak voice ringed in question.

[Kavala]

Kavala blinked, sighed, and shifted positions with a groan. She could feel the blood had crusted on her clothing and skin, even started to itch, but she still didn't have the energy to make it to the bath. A few more minute and she'd do it, the Konti decided. It was just about the time she made that decision that Sorian decided to speak. Kavala swiveled her head around, raised a bloody eyebrow, and seemed to sigh with resignation. "Look... I'm a little tired. I know your not real. So if your going to stand there at least do me the courtesy of not talking." She said, her voice lined with exhaustion as she heaved herself out of the chair and padded toward the bath house. She walked right past him, though their shoulders didn't touch. It reminded Sorian of how small she was, truthfully, in comparison to his far larger bulk. "Why are you thinner anyhow? And more scarred? I'd think you'd just be more contrary and a larger pain in the ass instead...." She muttered as she kept walking, disappearing into the bathing room with its stone tub on the opposite side of the courtyard. She moved like she was stiff and sore, but she kept talking the whole way, as if assuming his 'vision' would follow her. "What, did you get into a fight while you were gone? That doesn't surprise me... what was it this time? A Cyphrus Lion or a Velispar nest? You need another haircut again... why are you always needing haircuts, Sorian?" Kavala asked, still not looking at him. She was already filling the stone tub with hot water from the tap that lead to the cistern on the roof. Sanctuary was now high-tech... the sun heating bathwater for nighttime baths that didn't require kettles. When the tub was full and she had added a bundle of what looked like salt, a pack of herbs and oil for the top.... it also smelled slightly medicinal. The Konti, without so much as batting an eyelash, slipped slowly and painfully out of her things. She wasn't much cleaner with out them, truth be told. She reached up, freed her hair from its ponytail, and stood naked before him until she slowly slipped somewhat painfully into the bath. Kavala had never stood before him with nothing on, but even in the slightly brightening light of the sun, he could see the faint elegant knife etchings in her skin where there were no scales - scars from her captivity and the man who had her pain to pleasure so neatly. Assuming Sorian's vision had followed her... .she kept talking. "You were a real jerk to leave without saying goodbye. I'm still mad about that. But I kept your broken Lakaln... its on the mantle in my rooms. I didn't know what else to do with it. I know it has meaning to you, but to me it just symbolizes something thats broken which doesn't need to be. Akela and I are putting in a forge, you should fix that lakan and take it with you next time." She said, leaning back into the steaming water with a groan and shifting until she got comfortable.

[Sorian]

Sorian's eyebrows perked up with confusion at the way she addressed him, yet said nothing as she moved away from her seat. Was she delirious? He felt worried that she might actually be unconscious, yet he felt quite powerless to break the trance which she was probably in. It was this fragile state that was holding her back from unleashing all her pent-up annoyance at him, and in a way, his slow mind comprehended - and appreciated - it. The big Akalak could only follow Kavala helplessly as Kavala drifted off into the bath like a ghost, or a half-dead spirit in limbo, addressing him as if he was one himself as well. He looked down at his appearance as she outlined the differences he had brought home to her. A large, perusing hand reached up to the top of his head, knitting some locks into his fingers. Then he felt his ribs sticking out from his sides, and the deep gashes that adorned his body, the work of self-deprivation and not one, but several kinds of adversaries. He recalled that encounter with the balicani in the woods, the glassbeak pair which tried to eat him, the velispar that almost sucked him into its lair, and shuddered. How he deeply regretted ever leaving. He felt so hopelessly helpless that he couldn't even flinch, let alone protest when Kavala started undressing herself before him, not averting his eyes from the myriad of stories which her damaged body presented. He recalled all the stories which she had told him about her past, the sufferings which she had endured, the humiliations she had to swallow. Truth be told, he didn't know if he was supposed to feel lucky when in her presence; she was a victim of circumstance, he of fate. Sorian did not move from where he had stopped while Kavala slipped herself into the hot water, frozen firmly by her last words. "So... You are, angry. I'm... sorry," he mumbled quietly, unconsciously, trying to come to grips with the fact that she both was, and had reason to be angry with him. He also wondered how long he would be able to keep up with the trance / charade they were on, and how hard the hammer would fall once it ends. He could only shake his head in disappointment and embarrassment with himself as he stood quietly behind her.

[Kavala]

He shouldn't have worried about how long he'd need to keep up the ruse. She was exhausted, through and through, and the water only added to that exhaustion. It turned an ominous tint of red as she slid into it, still partially ignoring him, as she groaned and moved into a better position. Steam rose from the hot bath, infusing her tired muscles and easing the pain of kneeling, pulling, stretching, and fighting for the calves lives so fiercely. There was no one strong about to pull the birthing chains. Kavala had to do it all herself - not that she'd let someone else do it anyhow. They'd been her charges and they were safely birthed now. It was a relief that even Sorian's visage didn't interrupt. She didn't believe he was real anyhow. The real Sorian would have destroyed something by now, probably himself, and would have tried to start an argument with her for the sake of arguing. He certainly wouldn't have apologized. No... her brain was just tired. And the water was so warm. Kavala sighed, leaned back, and tipped her head up. Her gills slid under the water level and her mouth softly opened. No sound came through her lips though as she quietly and promptly fell asleep as her whole body relaxed. Dawn finished breaking outside, bathing the courtyard arena in light that slowly cleared the lingering fog of the early morning . Dew formed, creating a diamond riot of sparkles on the fence posts and even on the well-worked sand of the arena. It was peaceful. It was seductive. The whole of Sanctuary infused its denizens and visitors with a semblance of Sylir's glory. For the horses, they woke quietly - hungry as Awsten moved about feeding on the far side. For Kavala, it lulled her into a much needed sleep - even if it was in the bathwater rather than in her bed. For the rooster, it meant climbing to the top of the henhouse and crowing his little heart out. Even Sivak snorted, called to one of Windsongs mares across the courtyard, as the sun climbed slightly higher in the sky.

[Sorian]

The mass of blue was illuminated by the gentle sunlight as he stood behind the lulling Konti, unsure of what to say, unsure of what to do. The chiseled body he had, filled with repetitive memories of countless battles, hung weakly and precipitously forward in a great bout of despair and shame. Several moments of silence, broken only by the crowing of the resident rooster and the sound of freed hooves in the pen, passed by without issue. He was standing still, as paralyzed by her seeming indifference as he had been by his grief when she first found him sitting by the wayside all those months ago. "I know... Its probably... Too late, Kavala, but..." he began awkwardly, turning his head to glace sideways at the back of her silver-lined head. "I'd... Like to stay... Again. Here. With you." He struggled to say the words, knowing that had she been in her normal state of mind she would have furiously lashed out at him, slicing him open with words barbed with spite and disappointment. It was to his relief and great surprise that she didn't, although he was still worried by the lack of a response. Trickles of sweat began to flow from the crevices in his body, washing him with the musky smell of labor. Since returning to the wilds, he had not been so keen on preserving himself, so the natural scent of masculinity was very apparent in the hot bathroom steam. "Kavala...?" he began after yet another few moments. He had been standing there for the better part of an hour by then, yet he didn't mind the time nearly as much as he did Kavala's silence. Finally giving in to his curiosity, he walked around the tub slowly, to find the Konti sleeping relaxed and peaceful on the edge, her entire lower regions submerged in the water. He was somewhat surprised that he didn't have nearly as much of a problem seeing her naked now as he supposedly did the first time around. Leaning closer to Kavala, he felt something quite strange, something which was normal for every other person yet not for him. His eyes beheld all the tarnished ivory beauty that was her, the tiny iridescent scales flashing his pale blue body in the sunlight. She was truly beautiful; it was a mistake that he had ever left. Not knowing what to do, Sorian simply sat behind her, eventually took a sponge and started to clean her arms awkwardly, brushing it against her skin as lightly as his natural strength allowed him to. He remembered the first night with her, the way she touched his skin in such a business-like manner, the tough disdainful, yet thorough way she went through every part of his body as if he was merely a newborn foal or Sivak needing a bath. While he wished to reciprocate the favor in its entirety, he was not exactly as jaded as she was towards him, and the familiarity has gifted him with a sense of care he had not known in several years. She was the only one in the world she cared about, and it deluded him from doing what came natural. Not that she would have liked him cornering her while she is helpless in the bath. He scrubbed her shoulders, then her neck, soaping the sponge with the warm flowing water, then took another sponge and squeezed it over her head to soak her hair. Scrubbing all the blood and grime off of her, he paused and placed the sponge aside, taking the time to rest his head on her shoulder as she slept. "What... Would I be now, had you... Not found me?" he whispered into her ear, immersing himself gently in the lavander scent of her silver falls. His lips brushed against the side of her ear accidentally, yet it was enough for him to taste her skin. It was salty, and the soap perhaps accentuated it. Lust--yes, it had to be that--it hardened him, a surprising revelation. Yet he was not stupid enough to attempt anything. He simply continued to scrub her, unsure of how he was going to finish the rest of her body off.

[Kavala]

Kavala was in the habit of taking the wounded and hurting in. Whether she knew it or not, her forte always had been in dealing with those creatures that were on their last legs, lacking hope and lacking vision. Sorian had been one such creature, lost within himself and being blatantly bullied by his darker half, Navis. And yet, it was his darker half that had always appealed to Kavala for he had a vast potential to conduct violence and part of her longed for him to use it on her.

Because her greatest secret was that behind the calm exterior and the cool facade of business - behind the mask that was the drive of her psyche to succeed - was an incredibly damaged creature with a host of addictions and needs that had no place in civilized society.

Sorian had never understood that. But Navis would have recognized it immediately. Which is why she kept herself so neatly from him. It was too tempting to seek the violence which she'd grown accustomed too.

So when Kavala kept dreaming of Sorian even after she fell asleep, it didn't really concern her much. What did surprise her was that he picked up a sponge and started to bathe her. Kavala had routinely been the one to care for Sorian. It had been her duty - a calling as a healer - which she enjoyed as his friend. And as he ran the sponge over her shoulders and tainted the bath even more bloody with the debris he removed, she was slightly disappointed that he stopped. It woke her a little more as his chin settled on her shoulder, and inhaled the scent of her hair. When his lips brushed the sensitive skin of her gills beneath her ear and then her ear itself, she trembled and her eyes came fully open. Kavala knew lust. And while she was no kelvic that could smell subtle changes on people, she woke enough to realize the hands on her were real.

Truth be told, she didn't know what to do. It felt so good to be bathed for the dried blood itched and she was filthy. It felt wonderful to be taken care of like she took care of so many others. And, truth be told she was too exhausted to do it herself. Kavala routinely burned her candles at both ends, and when the wicks afire met, the exhausted creature in Sorian's care was normally the result. And though she was no seer of men, the woman in her could feel Sorian's hesitation and his confusion. So she waited a few breaths, then spoke softly. If he was listening, he'd pick up her words and their meanings right away.

"You aren't a dream are you? You've come back..." She said finally, her azure gaze open and staring at him now. Kavala's face looked so young in that instant, so alone. "Akela left too. Just after you did. I don't know why. Thank you for taking care of me... I'm sorry I am useless. I'm just really tired." Kavala stifled a yawn and shifted slightly. She took a deep breath then, and scooted out away from the rim of the tub to give him access to her back and by way of her silence, permission for the cleaning of the rest of her. Kavala wasn't shy. She'd been broken of that habit a long time ago. She didn't speak, but simply sat quietly. It was no less than she'd done for Sorian once upon a time. The thought never crossed her mind that Sorian would act on his sudden abrupt emotion or treat her any other way than that of a friend. Sure, he could invoke her Nakivak status at an time and claim what any Akalak had a right too. She wouldn't refuse. She couldn't. Not by Riverfall's laws. But the fact that it was Sorian reassured her a bit. He wouldn't take advantage. For all that she knew he was thinking things over. She'd once offered, thinking sex would heal him and help him mend faster than anything else. She'd been wrong. And her offer had been misplaced badly, resulting in him doing something drastic rather than touch her soiled body. Kavala had learned from the experience even as its memory stirred shame in her. She didn't regret it happening. And since then she'd learned that not everyone found her revolting.

Kavala had taken an Akalak lover, and one that had no interest in getting her with child - just an interest in exploring her on an equal basis and experiencing pleasure together. If Hatot had wanted an heir, and made clear his intention was for reproduction, she'd be safe from unwanted attention. But he had his own life to wade through first. His rites of passage to pass. He was a child in their society, and thus had no intentions of staking claim on anything. Kavala knew that. But he'd done something very important for her. He'd taught her what sex could be like without pain and fear and violence. It was a lesson she cherished and held dear, along with the tender new feelings she had for him.

Sorian, however, was a long time friend. One she felt she could trust. And in that moment, she was glad for his company for the rest of Sanctuary was off being busy, doing duties or fighting their own battles in their own way.

[Sorian]

Confusion. Hunger. Lust. Everything spiraled in the ancient Akalak's mind with a thinning conviction, and he was struggling mightily to suppress doing what he probably should have done before, for both their sakes. Although he hadn't regretted rejecting her, it eventually became clear to him that he had probably broken her more than she lets on. A broken pride to go along with a scarred body, it was almost an insult to his entirety to have been the cause of even a little bit of her suffering. Yet It was simply natural for him to think it over, and despite the fact that it had been on his mind for every day since the night, the conclusions have always been the same. She would never refuse him, and he will always hesitate because he actually cared. The Akalak's dreary state of mind snapped back into reality when Kavala stirred from her gentle sleep, pausing again to discern if her emotions were going to be violent or not. When she propped forward for him to scrub her back, the message was clear to him. She wasn't angry, probably because she's tired. He mustered an awkward smile and continued his actions by gliding his sponge against the length of her body, making sure every bit of it was cleaned and washed gently. "No... I am here, you are... Not dreaming, Kavala," he spoke in his usual sullen and broken talk. Before it had been one filled with self-hatred and pain, but now it was noticeably placid, as if he had released a great sense of burden from within. In that case, it didn't escape his notice that Kavala's, although very tired and somewhat hoarse and weak, was lighter as well. The familiarity and warmth between them was comfortable for him, it puts him at ease and gives him a reason to believe that she too cared for him. However the difficulty of suppressing himself mired the comfort he felt, mixing it into almost sublime unconsciousness. And the lust--oh, how he was putting up a good fight against himself not to try anything. Her body was hard, almost bony, due to the kind of work she does, though against the raw strength of his hands she would have been as paper in a laborer's hand. Summoning all his suppressive will, he took a deep breath and breathed out a reminder. "I'm just... Well, you know... I'll do this quick," He didn't say anything more for awhile, letting his hands do the talking for him as he hesitatingly explored every bit of her body with the sponge. It would have been like a museum caretaker handling a piece of porcelain with care. "So..." he broke out after awhile."You have been... Alone?"

[Kavala]

Kavala relaxed slightly, and when he was done with her back, she shifted to lean against the stone rim of the tub once more. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the care he took with her, though it was a strange sensation. She was the caregiver - the one that bathed and healed and soothed. His hands roamed and she let them, unconcerned, because it was Sorian and it was no less than she'd done with his own body once before.. when she'd found him running wild far outside the city.

"I thought I was... dreaming that is." She said softly. There was a tinge of exhaustion in her voice and a pallor that was unhealthy even under the pearl whiteness of her skin, which looked crimson through the cows blood in the water. Kavala didn't seem to mind it though, for all that the hair that trailed into the water was slowly staining pink at the ends rather than remaining its near colorless translucence. She watched him as he worked, almost detached, unconcerned as he started on her front , her arms, and her legs. She was drifting in the state between being awake and fully asleep when he said he'd do it quick. She opened her eyes and studied him, wondering exactly what he meant by that.. the bath or this visit? But she said nothing, still unsure of what he meant.

Then he continued bathing her and she was almost asleep again when he asked his next question. She shook her head slowly, sure of her answer. "No, Sorian. I'm never alone. Akela is here, and now Raiha. Asim is here off and on again, and Flick. And then there is Hatot. He's a very special friend - an Akalak. I can't remember the last time I was truly alone unless its been with a cow in the middle of the birthing her calves... tonight in fact." She answered, turning to look at him and offer a smile.

"So.... tell me. Where have you been and just why did you leave this time?" She asked, the weariness in her voice making her less reserved than usual. He had caught her at an open, almost vulnerable moment, and as such she wasn't holding back her own questions.