neron
First there was the sensation that he was looking at Zariah in earnest, rather than the facade that he knew she showed to the world. It wasn't the first time he had seen it, but it certainly was the first time in a long time. Before Neron could speak she stepped back and away from him, her fingernails dragging against his skin in a way that was infinitely painful and pleasurable. He inhaled sharply - no one had touched him like that (no one had touched him) in a very, very long time.
They wouldn't dare, not now.
And oh, but he'd missed it.
Blinking back into focus, Neron found Zariah draped in an Ursur fur (rather fetchingly so, in fact) and standing before the fire. Shaking off the dark familiarity of her touch, he tried to actually listen to what she was saying.
Frankly, it was ridiculous. "Hold it, now," he said, raising a hand in an effort to make her pause. "What power that brought us to Caido? What do you mean, others?" Never mind timelines. "I have been here for near a year, Zariah, and you are the first face I have seen that doesn't belong to a stranger."
He hadn't had time to dwell on before. Cyton's death was a fuzzy, grey thing in his memory, frozen out by the new environment. Marriage and a son didn't even come into it yet. It couldn't. Because if it did...
"Well if what you say is true I seem to have good taste," he quipped unhelpfully, remaining in his seat to watch her.
They wouldn't dare, not now.
And oh, but he'd missed it.
Blinking back into focus, Neron found Zariah draped in an Ursur fur (rather fetchingly so, in fact) and standing before the fire. Shaking off the dark familiarity of her touch, he tried to actually listen to what she was saying.
Frankly, it was ridiculous. "Hold it, now," he said, raising a hand in an effort to make her pause. "What power that brought us to Caido? What do you mean, others?" Never mind timelines. "I have been here for near a year, Zariah, and you are the first face I have seen that doesn't belong to a stranger."
He hadn't had time to dwell on before. Cyton's death was a fuzzy, grey thing in his memory, frozen out by the new environment. Marriage and a son didn't even come into it yet. It couldn't. Because if it did...
"Well if what you say is true I seem to have good taste," he quipped unhelpfully, remaining in his seat to watch her.
you're so cold, put your hand in mine
