The First Age

She was barely conscious, swimming in a fog. Images floated about her, smokey and distant and distorted. She had no energy to reach for them, to pull them to her and experience the moment, to remember. They washed around her, through her, there and gone and back.

Hunts. Faces of kills. Smiles of lovers. Laughter. Sunrises in mountains. Campfires. Dark basements. Fear. Loneliness. Contentment.

One extended a tendril, the one she always tried to avoid, reached out to her, for just a moment, and she was too weak to fight anymore. It touched her and for a moment she was there. Briefly. In a room, handcuffed to a bed, walls of heavy wood paneling glowing in the light of a fireplace. And for that single moment, terror surrounded her, overwhelmed her

Someone is in the room. More than one. Her head is foggy and hurts. She only hears snatches, different voices. Always before, the voices are muffled and difficult to understand. "....a gift...."
"...enjoy..."
"....not food, no..."
"...breed..."
laughter "...need food. Find..."


She opens her eyes and sees a face, distant, distorted. Regan's face. It reflects shadows and browns and orange light. Is that a sad look? A smile? It's like watching it on a screen. Or through glass. Through a window. A window.

She shied away from the memory, felt it clawing at her, demanding her attention...He left me. He gave me to... She refused to finish it. It clawed at the walls she tried to throw up, tried to dodge around them. She ran and ran.

Her eyes fluttered and she felt tears leaking down either side, felt the cold wet slide down to her ears, felt the touch of Tenzin's fingers, the gentle shaking. Not now. Not now. I can't do this. She took a breath, opened her eyes, fighting with everything she had, everything she was- everything she had made herself to be- fought and tried so very hard to shove it down...and maybe it worked.

She caught her breathing, prevented it from escaping as a sob. Cleaned up. Yes. She needed to do something simple. Physical. Clean.

She smiled weakly. "Suppose the drink was a bad idea."
she said in a whisper. She tried to sit up and her head exploded in pain from the pressure. She ignored it.

No. She relished it. Welcomed the distraction, embraced it. Carefully, she got to her knees and leaning on Tenzin, was able to stand, weakly. "Yeah, maybe I could use some help."


She hoped the water was hot. She hoped the alcohol stung. She hoped she needed stitches. She hoped the bits of debris needed scrubbing to clean. She was a mass of bruises, now covering scars she had built up over years.

She wanted to feel pain, right now...it was the only way out.


Edited by Jacinda, Jan 18 2018, 01:19 PM.

She wasn't out for long; that was good. And she didn't seem disorientated or confused; that was also good. But tears wet her cheeks, tracking through the dirt and wetting her hair. Tenzin might have wiped them clean, but she wasn't sure the gesture would be appreciated. Instead she shifted to help prop Jacinda up, only meaning to help her sit, but the woman pushed up to stand. She was quieter. Subdued. Tenzin's brows daggered low over her eyes. Something was very wrong; something that made her hackles rise like electric danced over her skin. If she'd known Jacinda better -- well, at all, since she was a stranger -- she would have pressed further. All this because Regus died? No, that was not it at all. This wasn't a woman who crumbled easily. At least she didn't think so. In any case, through her wolfish eyes she saw only a pack member in distress, and since she couldn't rag the problem by the neck, she did the next best thing, treating her with the tenderness she would any cub.

The den had a wet room but no tub; built to be compact and efficient. Jacinda was still weak on her feet, and maybe she could have handled showering by herself, but Tenzin didn't pause to give her the option. Flesh was just flesh, and Tenzin was neither prudish or shy, just practical. She shucked her own boots. Helped Jacinda undress, assessing the injuries as they were revealed. Scrapes, bruises, lacerations. But the shoulder was by far the worst, at least of the outward damage -- clearly there were some internal ones too, she had trouble even moving. Still. All that blood. Her frown lingered on that wound as she switched the faucet and the water came tumbling down, quickly swirling dirty pink water down the plughole. So many abrasions. Bits of gravel embedded. She knew it must hurt, and she wasn't cruel with it, but neither reticent, unafraid of the stinging pain she must be inflicting and gentle when she could be. Sometimes things had to hurt first, before they could heal.

She thought back to her change as she scrubbed the grime from Jacinda's hair, the soap running in rivulets down her forearms. The humanity leaked out of her when the wolves piled in and she had not been herself for a long time. Back then the lamas had cared for her most basic of needs, and she had bitten and scratched and fought the whole way. They visited everyday, their kindness resolute. Steadfast and nonjudgmental in a way she hoped she emanated now. It had been such a comfort back then. Or at least looking back on it she realised it was. At the time she was nothing short of feral.

When they were done she helped Jacinda out, and wrapped her in a towel. That shoulder already began dribbling blood and would need looking at next. They had been silent for a while now, and though Tenzin was naturally talkative, it had seemed unnecessary somehow to cheapen the kindness with chatter. "Sit now. I will get the medkit."

She laughed to herself softly. Tenzin reminded her of Julie. Younger than she was but confident. Maybe even a bit bossy. Heh....how old was Julie now? 37? 38? Probably a mother. That was never in the cards for her. Somehow, it just never felt like something she could do.

But Julie went on to have a life. The relief she'd felt- she still felt- was something she could almost touch. Injured and nearly dead- broken and bleeding in so many ways- and yet seeing Julie go on into the night, to her future. It was worth it. It had been worth it. She had lived for both of them. That made her smile.

And somehow, Jacinda just decided to let go. Just for a moment. To stop trying, stop the posturing, stop the facade, the image. Stop being in control.

To be human again. Cared for as a human.

Tenzin was gentle as she helped her undress, into the shower, even as the water stung her skin. She let the physical pain come to her, let herself feel her body and its scars and tears and bruises scream their protests. She was alive. Still alive. After all these years. Not dead yet. Mostly.

The feel of fingers through her hair brought back a distant memory, one she couldn't place. It was peaceful though. A safer time. The dried tracks of her tears washed away and with it, the memory that had threatened to overwhelm her, to take her over, letting go back to its hidden place.

The warm water off, her skin pebbled but the towel was warm and soft. The pains were still there, but lessened. Her back still hurt, when she walked, but she'd live.

Tenzin had her sit and went for the first aid kit. The humidity dissipated as the door opened and she resisted the urge to cover her shoulders. She'd been cold before and she'd be cold again.

She returned and carefully washed out the various cuts and abrasions with alcohol. The shoulder got the most vigorous of treatment and it hurt, but she was ok. It was just pain. In that case, she used the bioglue to bond the edges together and close the wound. Everything else just received ointments and bandages.

She was no nonsense about the whole thing. Professional, but her hands were very kind. Quietly, "Thank you. I'm not sure what is going on with me. But thank you."
She rose carefully. "Can you give me a second."
Tenzin left the room and Jacinda went to the cabinet next to the wash room, found some spare clothing- undergarments, sweats, socks- and dressed quickly.

Tenzin was was seated at the table, quiet. "I'm not normally like this."
Not something she'd say- she never explained anything about herself to anyone. She didn't care if people liked her. But this time she did. She sat down next to her and looked at her for a moment, studying. She was so quiet, but there had been small bursts of humor that broke through. She'd noticed.

She was still tired and a bit buzzed, but the shower had helped. And something else had happened. She felt purged a little. The wall had dropped. She tentatively reached out a hand and touched Tenzin's. "Thank you sister."


She wasn't sure what else to say. But tonight had been a much needed kindness.


Edited by Jacinda, Jan 19 2018, 11:32 AM.

It was cathartic in its own way for Tenzin, something so simple as the shared trust of tending another's wounds. It lulled her into contentment despite the blood-stained gauze and the stink of the alcohol, the effortless process of being and doing, something animalisitc and uncomplicated. She was at ease with the silence. Didn't really notice it.

Afterwards Jacinda took time to gather herself, and Tenzin retreated back out into the main living area, pulling another towel off the rack to dry off the worst of the dampness. She was sitting at the table when Jacinda reemerged. Tenzin trusted to her nose to gauge the woman's mood, though she tipped her head at the unexpected apology. Unnecessary between pack but she had no words to explain that.

There was change. A vulnerability.

The hand laid over hers sent warmth shooting up her arm. Sister. They called each other that all the time, no different than a term for colleague. But the way it was said now made her heart beat hard. It meant so much more. And she couldn't even share why.

Normally Tenzin wouldn't pry into another's life. She respected boundaries and did not breach them with strangers. More than that she valued her social interactions and did not like to fall on people's ill side. She was affable, the mediator, most likely to fall into playbow to lighten tension. Pack, though. That was different.

"Trained young in Alchi. Sometimes parents don't want children. Strange or different or just too many. But I had good life. Good teachers. Where I am from the lamas make difficult decisions and guide the way. No one man in control. Is, ah, temples that we learn. Temples the children go. And best become, you say, Athari."
She was sharing first, paving the way for honesty by offering her own. "Together is important. Leader is important too, but together is more. You met Regus? He did not hurt you. You not weak. Strong and fierce, I can tell. But someone or something hurt you.

If you talk, I listen. But not have to. I can talk. Bleed both our ears."
She smirked, a quick flash of teeth to smooth the intrusion.

Tenzin's quick grin was like a flash of sun light lighting up the drab room, made all the more special for being so rare. Jacinda nearly laughed and her smile was reflected in the look in her eyes. She was funny, though it came out as if carefully guarded and only shared with those she chose. Precious, for the sharing.

In her smile, she said, "I think we could make each other's ears bleed."


Then, reluctantly, she withdrew her hand, feeling the loss of what had been there. She didn't want Tenzin to feel uncomfortable. But all the same, she hadn't wanted to let go.

She couldn't put a name to what she had felt. She'd touched other men and women before. In training, in fighting, in camraderie, back slapping and teasing. Even in foreplay and passion. But she was never open. Not ever. To anyone. There was never any real sharing.

It was like that since....honestly, she wondered if she'd even been open with Regan. Had she?
She realized she had not. How could she? She didn't even know herself. So....never, then. Maybe.

This girl had opened herself up though. An offering, a way forward. She studied her. It had hit close to home.

"It's something to not be wanted. But I am glad you found a home. Had a good life. That someone took care of you."


Strange, it was like everything kept circling back. Something in her refused to let her deflect. Deflect what, she did not know. It all kept coming to a point though. And she was afraid to find out what it was. She could walk naked into a nest of Oni and feel no fear. She had faced down a quetzal and nearly died, but there was no fear. She had gone against a full powered god and only laughed at the joy of the hunt and her injuries.

But she was afraid of her own heart.

She stood and went to the counter, got coffee going, letting it emerge, life giving liquid, from the drip. The aroma filled the room. She poured two cups, found cream, sugar and spoons and brought them to the table, placing one for Tenzin and the other for herself. It had been quiet for a while.

She sat down and held the cup, feeling the warmth against her hands- perhaps a bit too hot where there were abrasions of freshly exposed skin. She almost welcomed the distraction, though.

Fear. But Tenzin had her measure. Fierce. Not weak. Not since the day she took her own life under control. Wrenched it from a fate that was worse than death. The scar on her right hand a testament to her rebirth. She sometimes still felt those cleansing flames and heat burning away who she had been.

Time to stop running. Easy to say. But not easy to begin. She laughed to herself. "No Regus never hurt me. In many ways, though, I think I was drawn to him. He was the first person since....well, the first person who I felt could measure up, could....."
she trailed off, unable even to admit the truth. She hesitantly met Tenzin's eye. Own me.

Aborrent. But deep down, so deep that she could barely admit it to herself, she hungered for it again. It had been so familiar. The safe time, after the chaos and loss. When she found stability and control after all that happened.

"My parents were killed by rougarou when I was 12. An atharim hunter took me in. He trained me, cared for me. I was more than his daughter. I was his companion. His girl, he called me. As much wife as daughter."
She looked off in the distance, remembering, whispering. "He was my world. Everything that existed was through his eyes. Everything I learned, everything that was important, from him. He was god to me. My very god. My universe. He shaped me and owned me to my soul."


Despite herself, she felt a tear drip. Her whisper became ragged, barely audible. Tenzin probably couldn't even hear her now. "And at the end, he got tired of me. He didn't want me anymore. After everything. He wanted to throw me away."
She closed her eyes, let the tears stream but compressed her lips. Not a sound escaped except her breathing.

She fought for control, the worst out in the open. She opened her eyes. "I wasn't good enough for him. And in all the years since then, I've never felt...like I belonged. Connected. Wanted."
She stared into Tenzin's black eyes. Thought about her life. Alike despite the differences. Both of them. Cast aside.

She smiled through her tears. "I am glad the lamas took you in and gave you a home."


Despite herself, she reached out again to touch her hand, just the finger tips, to feel that connection again. Just for a moment. Just one moment at least.


Edited by Jacinda, Jan 19 2018, 11:26 PM.

Jacinda rose to the kitchen and Tenzin only watched and waited. She meant what said about there being no pressure. As the coffee dripped and filled the air with its scent, she stretched her legs beneath the table and relaxed, perfectly prepared to let the subject drop. But upon returning with the mugs, Jacinda began to talk. Tenzin leaned forward, elbows on the table, coffee steaming beside her.

Twelve. By that age Tenzin had been at the monastery for most of her life, only just beginning her more serious training. Childhood in Alchi probably meant a different thing than the norm, but it was not unkind. She'd never really reflected on why her birth parents gave her up. Never had a reason to lament it; in fact, logically, it had probably saved her life. Normal people didn't take kindly to girls that suddenly sprouted teeth and claws, who forgot how to speak and to walk like a human. And most rākṣasa hatyārā would no sooner blink than end such a threat.

Her hackles shivered at the story. There were times she wished for Silver's guidance in the waking world; the wolves had such an effortless understanding of things humans made far too complicated. They smelled the evil despite what mask it may wear. But they didn't always understand the affairs of men.

She didn't like what she was hearing. She didn't like that when Jacinda admitted she had been as much wife as daughter, she did so with the nonchalance of declaring the sky blue. She didn't like the way her mind jumped from the heartbreak in Jacinda's voice to the subtext of the things she did not say. Tenzin objected to the spirit-touched being called gods, and she objected to the title bestowed on an Athari just as vehemently. Moreso, perhaps. It was wrong and it buried a growl in her throat, quickly swallowed down before it betrayed her. It was just her imagination, but in her head the wolves prowled agitated and protective. Snapping at an unseen threat. Hackles sharp. Ears low.

"No one owns soul. Only you."
It came out a little too fierce, a hint of gravel to her voice suggesting just how much she felt it. Her hearing was better than most, another gift from the wolves, and when the whispers fell strained by emotion, Tenzin heard. What Jacinda had had was not pack. It was not love. It was not loyalty. But she was not sure the woman was ready to hear it; if she might snap Tenzin's fingers off for going near something so sensitive, for forcing her to face it. Her face was pressed tight with the effort to control the emotion, tears leaking anyway, years of grief at the crux of a single point. And Tenzin did not know what to do, or to say. She only had her instincts.

The quest of Jacinda's hand was met with affection. She was sure she could take things further now, if she chose to. The brief touch of fingertips was like a drowning soul clutching for the shoreline, and sometimes there was comfort to be had in the purely physical. In the short term perhaps it would sooth away some of those hurts, but it was like throwing a blanket over a nest of rougarou and hoping the problem went away. Tenzin's instincts said it was the wrong way to do it, to let her simply pour herself into someone else at so vulnerable a moment. Though it made her smile all the same, the tentative seeking of that connection.

Instead she took Jacinda's hand and gently turned it over. Her finger traced the outline of the samsara with the pad of her thumb. "Belonging. Wanted. Connection. Yours. Worthy. Warrior. Good. Not find it in other, find it in self."
Then she laughed. "Lamas chuckle to hear that now. Not always good student."
She wrinkled her nose, grinning. Of course, she understood that notion of not belonging. If she blinked the contacts from her eyes, would Jacinda even hesitate before acting? But she found her connections in other ways. Never questioned her right to life. "And him? Throw him away. Not worthy. Taken too much already."
Her jaw set, the smile fading. Because she had suspicions she didn't want to voice, but the disgust was too strong to bury completely.

Her gaze fell to her own wrists. The leather throngs and charms that wrapped them, collected from varied travels, and her hands slipped free to liberate one in particular. She rolled the charm over in her palm, thinking, her heart beating with the word sister, and then she moved to knot it about Jacinda's wrist. "Collect charms. Silly superstitions, but feel good anyway."
There were glass beads strung along the leather, punctuated with intricate knot-work. The charm itself was a curved tooth rooted in dented gold. It belonged to Silver. The only physical reminder she had of her pack so many miles away, and something she had found great comfort from in the years after his passing to the dream. To her this meant belonging. To her this was connection.

Her attention focused on knotting the leather. "Where is he now?"

Tenzin's responses seemed to push through the avalanche of emotion that she had found herself in, to brush it aside like a curtain with ease. Somehow, Jacinda found the whole thing comforting, to see someone buffeted by the great currents of emotions and treat them as splashes in a pond.

She knew she was no great or deep thinker. She was not intellectual. She knew where her strengths lay, her abilities to get into other minds. To see the shape of things. It was her gift. But that aside, she was at her core a person of pure emotion. She sometimes felt she rode the emotion like a beast, keeping it under control, mostly.

But she knew that if she ever removed the control, delved beneath the surface waters- as for some reason she had today- she would be swept under, carried by an undertoe that took every bit of strength to come up from, if she could. She would need an anchor or a life vest or something to hold on to, to help.

It was why her general attitude was flippant, superficial, a refusal to let anything or anyone in. It was so much easier. And for 25 years it had worked.

Tenzin was a different kind of animal...and yet a kindred. She was unapologetically earthy. Subconsciously, she had picked up on the little things, the growls, the passion, the.....rawness of her. Animal.

And she found it a comfort. She lived in that ocean, dove into its depths, swam and experienced the underworld unafraid. There were no monsters or undercurrents that threatened her. The wildness excited her.

And Jacinda wondered what that was like. And felt envious of her freedom. Her laugh, the way she crinkled her nose, was endearing, reminding her of a pup. "You had good teachers. And they had a good student."


But she knew Tenzin couldn't understand. "Leaving someone in the past is easier said than done. Facing and dealing with inner pain is not something I know how to do."
Still, the girl exuded peace and Jacinda craved it. "But I would like to learn. I want to. "
Her desperation came through in her voice. She wanted the animal, if it brought this. Tenzin.

But Jacinda's heart began to race as she accepted her touch tenderly, felt her hands take hers tenderly. Electricity. Jacinda watched hypnotized as her thumb pad gently traced a circle on her palm, felt a spark and a thrill spike in her stomach and spread out.

The touch and her words- simple because of her limited English- trying to communicate her belief in her, left her speechless. No one had ever believed in her. They respected her because she made it impossible for them to ignore her. She demanded people acknowledge her. Even Regus. She had demanded a position in the archangels and her record forced him. But it had been grudging, a sense of being on probation. She would not be ignored.

Not Tenzin. At least for the moment, she could believe it. She dared not look in Tenzin's eyes, unwilling to see the reality, that she was wrong. For just a moment, she could imagine the connection between them was real. She was seen, known, and wanted. For herself, not as a woman or her body or what she represented.

The live wire connection stopped as she pulled her hands away and Jacinda looked up shocked, tried to hide her disappointment.

She fingered her leather cords, as if looking, seemed to settle on one, untied it and then held it in her hand looking at it, rolling it around as if considering, and then reached for her still outstretched right hand and started tying it. She tried to play it off as something simple and meaningless. But Jacinda had seen the consideration. This meant something.

Nothing could have prepared her for this gift. This girl was sharing something precious to her. She touched it, studied it. A tooth- from a wolf?- rooted in gold, held by a knotted leather cord interspersed with glass beads. It was simple, primitive.
Special. Her eyes rose and met Tenzin's black one with surprise. "You can't. This means something to you. I can't."
She wanted to ask more.

But Tenzin had a question of her, one that sent all refusal out of her mind. She was glad to have it to pick at, now, so she could look at it. Something more to avoid. Except for some reason, she didn't feel like deflecting or hiding. She felt comfortable. It was an admission of guilt. Of murder. And that was ok.

Jacinda looked at Tenzin. Took a breath and plunged into the ocean, feeling tethered. "He's dead. He and I were taken by a nest of rougarou. I was able to escape. But I didn't save him. Maybe I could have. But..."
it felt odd to reveal this about Regan. And yet, walls were down. She could tell her. "There was a girl. Regan said he wanted to save her from her dad. He was done with me. I didn't want that for her. I didn't save Regan in time. On purpose."
She didn't shy away from anything.

And strangely, for the sharing , she felt lighter. Freer. Even if Tenzin disapproved, she could bear it. Trust. And it was her turn. She held the leather band at her wrist with a thumb. She had to know. What was this between them? It couldn't be just her. She hoped. "What is this to you that you give it to me? Why?"


There was only communication now. No inquisition. "Please understand. This means something to me now."
She held it tenderly. She smiled, resisted the urge to reach out again, to feel that connection.She didn't want Tenzin to think she was trying to turn this into something cheap or superficial. Something merely of the moment. She was content in this bonding. It was enough for now.

"Didn't say easy. Just better. Long to learn, sure. But first steps enough to start."
She finished the knot and sat back. The quick grin flashed again, amused that Jacinda's first instinct was to refuse the gift. Not that it made any difference. She winked. "And yes, can. Have."
Only for her expression to still when Jacinda answered the question. She had to pad carefully around the emotions it invoked; the desire to howl the success of a good hunt. There was no doubt in her mind, no ounce of compassion in her core. He had deserved to die.

"Good. Glad."
She said it savagely and without hesitation. This Regan had been Jacinda's world -- her universe, so she said, and on a human level Tenzin understood that those lingering feelings of love could not so easily be swept side. It was far more complicated than that, and maybe it was cruel to be so vehement -- maybe it was even not what Jacinda would want to hear. But Tenzin wasn't capable of hiding the truth of her reaction. She didn't have pity to spare, nor would she stoop to give it. The past couldn't be changed. But nor could new shoots sprout in barren ground. She looked forward, not back. "World better for it. Think you know, somewhere deep. Regret killing rougarou? No different."


Afterwards Jacinda lightened, her scent calmer, more peaceful. That was good. Tenzin let the vestiges of her own anger drain away, moving away from the past and back into the moment. She watched the woman finger the charm, could feel the fluttering of her emotions like butterfly wings.

"Means something, yes. But what use is gift if not special? Means nothing then."
She couldn't explain everything, of course. She was not naturally duplicitous, and the masks she wore were not so much contrived as pure survival. She was as honest about her nature as she could be without revealing too much. Which meant unravelling it into man-speak. "For me? Means home. Means protection. Is comfort of good memories and good hunting. Promise of now and future. Mine, now yours. Remember of this. Truth and... sister, yes? Anchor in storm. Is good metaphor?"
Pack. That's what she wanted to say, and what she couldn't. A promise that Jacinda was no longer alone.

Tenzin surprised her and Jacinda was taken aback. The way Regan died brought no words of correction, however gentle they might be, let alone any condemnation. She seemed....glad he was dead. She even....she even seemed to be comparing his death to a roug's. Jacinda didn't know if she'd ever be able to feel that way.

But Tenzin's passionate and animal reaction released something. She felt the tension, the last residue drain away. She wasn't sure what Regan was to her anymore. It had been so very long since he'd died. He would always be part of her. Did he still define her? She didn"t think so. It felt like the last hold he had was weakening. She could admit his weaknesses. To a point. Could acknowledge that something hadn't been right.

The full extent, no. Not now. Not yet. But it felt like something had changed.

Instead, she watched Tenzin describe what the charm meant to her. They were both a long way from home, from what was comfortable. And yet that easily, that freely, she gave it to her. Priceless. Jacinda smiled at her. She felt calm. At peace.

She had her anchor. She more than smiled.

Tiredness washed over her. Emotions were tiring. But....as bad as it was, it hadn't killed her. She was still here. And she had a.....sister, of sorts. It would do for now. She was a sister. But in many ways, more. Family.

Jacinda laughed. So funny. Took comin all the way to Moscow and nearly gettin killed to come to a home. Cuz it was a home now. Her home.

Jacinda looked at the charm one last time. It would never come off, nope. Not while she lived, no sir. From her cold dead body. That was the saying.

She stood, feeling her back spasm. Tired. Yeah she was. But refreshed at the same time. She looked down at the girl. Legs long. She was tall. Would hold her own. A partner. Yeah. She did like the sound of that. Not with her in the lead. Together. A team. Like a real team.

Maybe. If Tenzin wanted to. She hoped. Her heart did. A family. "You can't know what you did for me. I am your sister. Always. Always there for you. We are a team now."
On impulse she went to her, kneeled down, and hugged her tight, squeezed and felt her in her arms, the exotic alien earthy smell of her, her hair, the feel of her body, of her charms on her arms, and realized there were tears on her cheeks. God, she had cried so many fucking times tonight. Hehehe...so dumb. Such a girl.

No. She wouldn't belittle it. Not the sharing. It was ok to be open with Tenzin. She kissed Tenzin tenderly on the cheek, pulled back, looked in her honestly raw animalistically passionate eyes. Felt peace in those eyes. "Always your sister,"
she promised.

It was hard to let her go. She didn't want to. But she needed sleep. She was so tired. And Tenzin had given so much. Too much. Part of her wanted to sleep on the couch just so she could be in the same room, to hear the comforting breathing and presence of her, even as she did whatever she had been doing. Reading, maybe. Yeah. There had been a book. So nice. That would be home. Yeah it would.

But no. She'd taken too much from Tenzin and given nothing in return. She stood, holding her hand with both and squeezing. "Thank you."
She whispered. She meant it.


Edited by Jacinda, Jan 21 2018, 09:26 PM.

Jacinda stooped to hug her. It had been a long time since anyone had been so openly affectionate and Tenzin's nature revelled in the closeness of warmth and skin and scent. She could smell the salt of tears but also the promise of something positive. A fresh turn of earth. A crisp new sunrise. Sister. She grinned and pressed her forehead to Jacinda's like it was the most natural thing in the world. Acceptance. Assurance. Peace.

It would take time for the woman to accept without the constant reassurance of gratitude. Some things just were. She squeezed her hands back and then pulled away, suddenly serious. "Sleep now. Look dead on feet. Still be here in morning."