Gabriel sat himself back down at the bar, the prospect of a good meal gripping his attention. "...Steak. A really big one...medium rare, with fried onions and barbeque sauce...and mushrooms...and fries, can't forget them...and salad; lettuce, cucumber, tomato, sweetcorn...red onion...and a pint." He paused, and continued: "And...some bread, butter, and a bit of cheese." His eyes glazed over at the prospect of proper food; he suddenly remembered the last time he'd eaten was before he'd set out to get another round of pills; and that was last week. As Stefan nodded, Gabriel's eyes opened wider and he continued, "And...if it's not too much trouble...half a dozen of bacon, same of sausages, a few fried eggs...beans, and a few slices of fried bread...more fries with that...on the same plate, if you can manage it..."

Under the impression his order might deplete most of the larder, Gabriel calmly palmed a silver coin into Stefan's hand, muttering, "For the house's trouble."

Stefan peered curiously at the vampire.

"You probably shouldn't drink it all at once, Mr. Gabriel," he said, softly, closely watching that the vampire was eyeing the rest of the flask. "Vampires were never allowed much of an Angel's blood, as you can guess, because we usually don't just offer it, and Rosiel's not a normal Angel. He's the Lord of the Angels and.. then he's got another problem. Nothing like a disease or anything like that, but it might affect you, as a Vampire... I'd tell you, but he'd get very angry, and Rosiel doesn't like me as it is..."

"Well, can I get you anything, Mr. Gabriel? You still haven't told me what you would like - I'm about to start dinner."

He was certain that the Vampire was all right, and that he was close enough to help in case there was trouble. Stefan went back into the kitchen area and started shifting through the different kinds of foods, muttering to himself, trying to guess what the guests would like to eat.

Outside, the Blue Tree stood in the ever-lasting snow storm. More and more of its' needles had fallen off and lay in the snow, in an ever-growing pile.

Rosiel smiled solftly when he felt Faye's head on his shoulder. He felt relieved that wasn't going to run away from him, wasn't going to call him a monster and condemn him. In fact, she had started to slide her palm down his hair, as if petting him.

Of course she isn't, said the voice in its' usual amused tone. She hasn't seen what you really are, yet. Once she does, she'll call you by your real name, and leave you like everyone else has. You can count on it.

Rosiel wanted to tell that voice to shut up, to never speak again, but he knew that it was right, and he didn't Faye to hear him, to think he was telling her to shut up. And that suddenly made him wonder at something she had said.

"...and you're not an idiot. Not in the least..."

Why had she said that? Rosiel never called himself an idiot... unless she had heard the voice which spoke inside of his body. How could she hear it? His body stiffened as he considered that Faye could possibly hear the voice, which was very bad. This was apparently a place that could amplify ones thoughts, and the voice would scare Faye.

After all, why wouldn't it? You've got a guy hugging you, he thought, and all of a sudden you hear the voice of someone else coming from his head. He silently begged the voice to shut up, to leave him be. And when the voice did not reply, he assumed that it had obeyed his plea. Faye was saying something now, she was apologizing. She too sounded relieved.

"Nothing to apologize for," Rosiel mumbled.

He could still feel that annoying sense of fear, and cold. The same sense of urgancy. What was wrong? And then he remembered where they really were. They were in the forst. Rosiel had gone to find Faye, Keo, and the mysterious guest that Stafan had spoken of, and he had been so worried about them that he failed to notice that he was ill. Stefan might have noticed, but Rosiel hadn't been around his younger brother much.

He remembered the urgancy now, too. It was Faye. Faye was freezing to death out in this cold. The Angel was certain that Keovari was going to be all right, even if he could somehow feel the bite of the bitter frost. Rosiel gently pushed Faye away from him and held her shoulders.

"We need to get out of this place. I need to get you to the inn. It's cold. I've got a blanket with me for you," he said.

A group of four traveled through the same forest that the inhabitants of the Seven Roses Bar had entered hours ago. They were traveling on the road that led to Ravenholm, and therefore missed Faye and Rosiel, who were in the snow, and Keovari and Mystical, steadily traveling away from the road and two their two friends.

This odd group walked in a diamond formation along the road, with a large Demon at the front, another Demon at the left side, and a human woman at the left side. Behind them was a tall Angel, shackled, trotting behind them. They had been making good time until the snow storm started and they entered the forest.

The Demon leader of the group, Samael, was getting worried about the road that they were on. The group were bounty hunters, and the Angel with them was one that they had found. While on jounry to Kirin, they had stopped to rest in the city of Ashur. Although they were bounty hunters, and two of their group were Demons, they weren't the sort of bounty hunters everyone liked to avoid. At least, everyone who abided by the law.

Samael and his son, Leonard, were outcasts from their own race because their beliefs did not seem to suit Demons. Samael taught his son that they were Angels, only with darker skin and blackened wings. He did not believe that Angels and Demons were really all that different, something that many Demons and Angels were reluctant to believe, and even more reluctant to accept. So, they were thrown from their home.

They could not go to Heaven and live with the Angels, so they lived amoung the humans in places were the humans were used to creatures that weren't so human. In the southern towns and cities, places like Ashur, humans, Demons, Angels, and many other creatures lived together and traded, and so, Samael and Leonard had stayed there, mostly.

In the city of Ashur, they met a human bounty hunter named Edeline. She needed a few other hunters to join her team so that she could catch some of the bigger and stronger bounties, and the two Demons joined her. Edeline was fair and honest, and the jobs that she was able to get paid well, and the group did not starve. The group of bounty hunters now knew each other for several years, and although Edeline was the one who had oringally contracted Samael, she accepted him as the leader of the group.

Edeline, a few months ago, had found a contact in the mountain city of Kirin, who wanted them to obtain a stolen shipment of slaves and kill those responsible for taking them. The deed had been done, and the slaves were left in Ashur with a relative of their Kirinian contact, given 75% of the reward (as per orders) and the group were to take a signed letter to Kirin in order to obtain the rest of the reward, as well as to recieve a new assignment.

On their way to Kirin, they had found an Angel, confused and lost in the plains. He was tall, with short silvery hair, silver eyes, and the usual pale skin of Angels. The back of his head was bleeding, and his body was covered in bruises. It appeared that he had fallen from somewhere. They had taken him into their camp, clamped him in irons, atteneded to his wounds, fed him, and questioned him. He did not know where he was from, what his name was, or what had happened to him.

The only thing that was obvious, was that he was a high-ranking Angel, by his uniform. Edeline suggested that they could sell him to their contact in Kirin as a slave, that at least he would be fed there, since he wasn't able to do much else. Samael didn't like the idea, but had agreed, silently hoping that someone along the way would want to buy him instead. He didn't like their contact in Kirin, and he definately didn't need the wrath of the Angels if they found out that one of their kind was a servant for a fat human that treated his pet boar with more affection than his family.

The only other alternative was to leave him in the plains, and they doubted that he would live for long, in his condition. There was a small unnamed town right on the boarder to the northern lands, and the group stayed in a small inn for the night. After asking around if anyone wanted to buy the Angel (or rather, someone who had enough money and looked like they would take care of him), the bar-keep told them about the town of Ravenholm, just northeast of their position.

She mentioned that she had heard that the owner of an inn there, The Seven Roses Bar, was an Angel. Demons from the northern lands came back bearing stories of the inn, about how they felt a holy presense constantly in the owner and his brother.

"Een iffen you can't sell the Angel boy, ya'll get a good night's rest, an' some fine food an' drink right 'afore your trip to them damn'd mountains," she had said. Samael had thanked her and related this information back to Edeline, who agreed to try selling the Angel to the owner of the inn, but only if he could pay for it.

And so, there they were, heading to Ravenholm, on the dirt road that they hoped wouldn't lead them elsewhere.

Something new began to creep it’s way into the Lady’s awareness. Strangely it was not of herself, no it was of him. Strange whispers of feelings which she had never felt from him before. At first she knocked it off as her own hallucinations brought on by the cold. That had to be it. Now the frigid temperatures and her own weak state were messing with her powers. To her surprise, the feelings persisted and only grew stronger. They seems to swell and grow until finally an eruption of emotion bombarded the woman with it’s full force.

With this onslaught Mystical’s head shot up and her deep green eyes sprung open in surprise. Her entire form grew stiff as a bored in the Spirit’s arms. It was no delusion on her part, nor was it her own wishful thinking. These were truly his emotions she was feeling. Then stranger still, a rush of words came spilling out his lips, only serving to confirm the emotions that now filled her to the brim. Shock, awe, and a slightly pleased expression were all intermingled upon the Lady’s face as she found herself fixated on his eyes. Those eyes, the windows to his soul, could not hide a thing from her intense gaze.

“My dear, darling Mystical..”, those four words said it all. Never had such words been uttered of his lips and directed to her. Her heart soared as she began to feel light-headed again, but she did not look away. She held his gaze with her own and her eyes began to go soft. ‘What is happening.. To me? To us?’ Soon it became impossible for her to find the barrier between what she had felt from Keovari and what she knew to be her own private emotions. ‘What could this mean?’ The only other time she could ever recall feeling something even remotely similar was when she was around Faye and Gabriel. ‘But that was...’ She could not bring herself to finish the thought. ‘...Love?’ That familiar internal voice chimed in with perfect timing. ‘Go ahead and say it. It will not bite.’ Her jaw drops slightly as the reality of it all began to fully sink in. No response was made, only silence. Then a wicked laughter of triumph filled her mind for a moment before it too faded away to leave her alone with her thoughts.

Swallowing hard she tried to calm herself, but her racing heart would not allow it. A deep crimson flush came to her cheeks and soon she became aware of a shaking. Oddly this time it was not her own cold induced shuddering. Worry washed over her, for him, for his safety, and especially for his emotional state. He was not himself but then again, neither was she. Mustering up all her courage she began to speak softly with a bit of uncertainty and an almost imploring tone to her small voice. “Keo... please, do not worry for me. I -will- be fine. More so now than ever before.” Timidly a gloved hand moved slowly to rest against the Guardian’s cheek with a shaky touch. “It is you who I worry for. I want no apologies for the truth. You cannot hide such things from me... not after I have felt it in your heart and my own. You have done -nothing- wrong, my darling Keovari.”

Nothing was held back anymore, not in her words nor in her actions. The words from her own lips surprised her, but she did not flinch. Her deep gaze remained steady and her soft touch lingered at his cheek. Somewhere deep within her chest her heart pounded, and her mind was a raging storm of mixed thoughts and emotions. What now? Where would they go from here?

Gabriel's heart raced, fired from the sheer rush of Rosiel's blood. He ran his finger round the rim of the bottle, and licked the drops of blood that had clung to it. That marvellous golden sensation shot to his head for a split-second, like a shot of morphine to the head. His ears rang with otherworldly voices, and Stefan's face seemed to have a unique aura about it. Gabriel couldn't fully comprehend what he was seeing; it was as if Stefan had three or four faces, lined on top of one another. The sense of something much bigger than himself seemed to emanate from Stefan's very core, and Gabriel realised in a single solemn and serene moment that Angels were beings far beyond the realm of his understanding; and he admired them for it.

"It's...got a kick to it." Gabriel muttered, his voice a quiet, whistling breath. He backed up against the bar and slid down it slowly, sitting on the floor as the narcotic slowly loosened its grip on him. But with the kick, came the comedown; Gabriel's head felt pained to watch the lines of the world slowly filter back in, as if coloured in by an unseen artist. Everything seemed stark and real once more, hard and merciless. The world must seem so beautiful to the Angels, he thought. The chill of the night air drifted through the room and cut Gabriel to the core as if he'd never felt it before. The dead silence of the room seemed such a long way from the frenetic organic pulsations the Angels seemed to hear. I need more, more of this sensation. I've seen too much. Gabriel felt his hand twitching, every thought bent upon reclaiming his previous, inalienable state. The bottle was still on the bar, still mostly full. He could just try a little more...just to feel it again...

Gabriel slammed the back of his head against the bar hard, grunting in frustration at himself. You're already a pillhead, boy. You don't need another addiction. Pulling himself to his feet and brushing himself down, he took a lungful of the freezing hair, trying to remind his body that it was, and always would be, mortal. He turned to Stefan and said:

"Bloody nice stuff, that. "

Faye felt blankly confused, stuck in shock, for a pregnant moment. He hadn't meant it that way at all. And now here he was, hugging her.
What happened? Wasn't he going to be like the others and hate her. Scream at her. Want to kill her. Of course not.
She felt his arms around her and his head on her shoulder. Beyond him, she saw the indent in the sand where he had stood. She saw the ghost of the gun and finally fully felt it. Those things. Those terrifying things. It suddenly occurred to her why Keovari hated them so much. The memory of the one pointed at her left her cold. She could not imagine what Keovari must have felt. Faye feared little, but that little gun caused her a large amount of fear. She felt the tension of fear shudder through her body very slightly, then felt freed. Her mind snapped back to the Angel.


...Poor Rosiel!

Suddenly her body seemed to release it's frozen state. The small girl slipped her arms over the Angel's shoulders and around his neck, holding him close in an embrace. One hand cradled his head against her shoulder where he had placed it, petting gently.
"Oh! You must not be sorry. It was on my own usual error of judgment. You did not mean to harm me and I do truly know that. You must never believe yourself to be stupid," She hugged him tighter and shook her head gently, "I am the one who was mistaken. I beg your forgiveness for all my mistakes. You have been so kind to me, yet I have not even proven able to lend you health. I am so sorry. So very sorry."
She clung childishly to him, distantly feeling that if she just held on, he would forgive her and not hate her. She felt herself crying softly in relief, pure, deep relief.
As her mind continued to clear slowly and began to allow her to focus on the world, she realized that Rosiel's voice wasn't the only one she had heard. She frowned very slightly, but quietly assumed it may have been his own thoughts... Though it did not sound at all like what Rosiel's thoughts would seem to be. Why would he be taking humor in agreeing with himself?
She continued petting him gently, "And... You are not an idiot. Not in the least. If anyone is, that is Faye." She smiled slightly and let her eyes fall into focus on the world.
Faye intended to ignore her thoughts for a bit and focus on Rosiel, but that would require her to clear her head. She examined her subconscious 'happy-place', taking in the clear sea air and sweetly warm sun. The breeze had not died completely and was fluttering the various plants, lifting the spray of the waves enough to touch her cheeks. She imagined the salty taste of the ocean, feeling it from the air alone. The beautiful scent of the clear air lifted her spirits. As the breeze finished its job of drying her last tear, taking a deep breath, she was calmed.
"I'm sorry, Rosiel." She said softly, moving her head against his and hugging him tightly again.

The Angel silently watched as the woman before him began to... cry? He lowered the gun slightly, and cocked one of his brows, staring at Faye's face. The sun, which had almost suddenly appeared moments before, as if mockingly, he noted bitterly, made the tears that were welling up in her eyes visible to him, though barely. He more noticed that she needed to blink rapidly because her vision was probably getting blurry, and when someone is pointing a gun at you, he thought, you really want to make sure you can see them. He watched her clench her fists, and he thought that he noticed them shake just slightly, but only very slightly.

Rosiel still did not want to completely lower the gun. The sensation of fear contiously tugged at him, though he couldn't recognize what it was from yet. His face relaxed, and he took a step foreward, still holding the handgun before him, although his finger was not pressing against the trigger so tensely. She took a gulp of air, and finally the tears came down, properly sliding down her cheeks. Faye seemed to be trying to regain her composure, and apparently, when she felt that she had enough, she spoke to him.

"Rosiel... I am sorry that you are that you are having this reaction. I know that this must be altogether strange to you, but I assure you that you are safe here. Never has coming here caused any being a problem, neither should it for you. But perhaps I miscalculated... You are an Angel, and I have never met an Angel before you..."

Her voice was soft, and that somehow came as a surprise to him. Rosiel was expecting her to perhaps shout at him, or to start screaming, but she didn't. Instead, her voice was full of some kind of sadness. And fear. He couldn't deny that he heard the unmistakable waver of fear. Well, of course she's scared of you, idiot, he thought. You're pointing an instrument of speeding death at her forehead,

Forehead. She kissed my forehead.

of course she'll be fucking scared of you.

No.

That was wrong. It wasn't his gun that she was staring at. It was him. Faye did not speak, nor did she move. She stood, intertly, with her hands folded before her, reminding Rosiel of the way a rabbit would fold its' paws when it stood on its' hind-legs, looking around for food. The image would have caused him to laugh if it hadn't been for the way she was fixed at him. He didn't like it, and it was begining to scare him more.

The Angel was not new to such a look. He'd seen it many times, though it usually didn't have the accompanying sadness that was so clear in Faye's expression, except for the time that saw-

no not thinking about that no stoppit stop i don't want to remember stop

He shut his eyes and clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together, slightly. Suddenly, he thought that sun was too bright, as multicolored diamonds danced in the blackness of his vision, and his throat was extremely dry. He wanted something to drink, and the sound of the waves crashing just behind Faye made his thirst even more intense. When Rosiel opened his eyes, he forced himself to forcus on the woman, still not lowering his gun. He was now holding it in one hand, his finger just gently brushing the trigger finger, though his hand had been clenched around the weapon in a death-grip just moments ago, and he held it half-heartedly.

Faye seemed to be very troubled. Her facial expression, too, had softened, and Rosiel knew that it wasn't a trick of the sun; that fear which was the fear of him had gone away, and all that was left was that terrible, aching sadness. He couldn't stand it. The Angel didn't like it when any creature in his presence was in such anguish, much less someone who he liked emensely.

Wait a second, said a voice in his head. You were going to blow her head off before, because you weren't even sure that it was her, and now that she's leaking a few tears, you've suddenly let your guard down? You're going soft, Angel Lord. The voice sounded vaguely amused, but Rosiel chose to ignore it. The voice that spoke would speak again, later, no doubt, but right now it had decided to take Rosiel's disregard correctly and wisely shut up.

He continued to watch her, his hands now begining to tremble. A small, loose pin on his gun repeatedly hit against the metal of the gun, creating a clacking sound which resembled chattering teeth. He thought that Faye would notice his gun waving and tightened his grip in an attempt to hold it steadily. She was still silent, though a sudden shudder startled him. Rosiel took another step forward so that he could get a closer look at her.

She was breathing in and out rapidly, vainly trying to blink away the tears which now coming in full-force. The Angel was very confused; he couldn't understand why he was making her cry, why he was making her so sad. What have I done wrong, he wondered. Faye slowly regained some of her former composure, and stood as she did before.

Faye was waiting.

And he then knew that it was Faye, and not some kind of illusion. At least, not the kind that wanted to hurt him. She had a determined expression on her face, one that quite plainly stated, I'm sick of running. Rosiel wasn't sure what it was that she was sick of running from, but he supposed it would be explained to him in due time. He lowered the handgun, removed his finger from the trigger, clicked on the safety mechanism, and reholstered it.

The Angel then slowly made his way toward Faye. He remembered the previous look of pain on her face and broke into a run. He dashed up to her rather quickly and slipped both of his arms under hers and around her back, pulling her into a hug. He rested his head against her shoulder and smelled the distant smell of some kind of flower. A muffled sort-of-sweet smell that wasn't violent enough to strike him as vulgar and make him want to turn away. He liked it.

Rosiel felt the urge to kiss her, but he didn't think it was a wise thing to do, so he simply stood there, as he was. Faye didn't seem to move. Perhaps she was still angry at him.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, not knowing what to say. "I'm sorry, you scared me. This place scared me. I've never been pulled away like that. I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want to scare you. I'm so, so sorry. I was stupid."

Yes, the voice agreed. You are an idiot.

He stood now, holding her in a hug, and awaiting her reaction.

Faye stared at the gun. Her usual composure faltered immeasurably at the sight of the weapon. Her mind flashed weakly to Keovari and his hate for these weapons, to the sound of Rosiel's voice on the wind. A welling of confused tears melted into her eyes as she refused to allow them to fall. Her fist clenched in trepidation. The expectation had been for Rosiel to be indignant, but understanding, at most. Reactions like this had never been recorded! People always adjusted to the sanctity of another person's cloistered subconscious. This could not be happening! Faye's mind reeled. No...

---

"My efforts are poorly spent only in that I have not helped you properly." He said softly, the strange warmth that had spread from his heart making his speech unsteady.
The wind seemed to caress Keovari's cheek. Absentmindedly, he wished that he could feel the cold. He missed the sensation. He lost this vague thought swiftly as he stopped short. The snow had suddenly stopped it's steady decrease and had disappeared altogether. The area looked as if it had been momentarily heated, the ground damp, but not as much as would be expected from the amount of snow they had been around. Some of the liquid was gone. He narrowed his eyes, focusing his sight in the darkness. Nothing yet.
He readjusted his hold on the lady, shifting her closer, as he pushed off, moving faster now that the ground gave him better footing.

He felt her move up, her face against his neck. It surprised him, and though Keovari showed little external signs, he perceived the features of her face against his skin, and suddenly felt deeply protective.

---

Faye took a deep, shuddering breath. A gentle wind lifted a few loose strands of her hair, flinging them around her face as she turned down. Her eyes were not strong enough, the tears were coming. She gathered herself for the smallest moment. Reorganized her thoughts.
"Rosiel... I am sorry that you are that you are having this reaction. I know that this must be altogether strange to you, but I assure you that you are safe here. Never has coming here caused any being a problem, neither should it for you. But perhaps I miscalculated... You are an angel, and I have never met an angel before you..." Her voice was soft, carried to him by the breeze.
Her blue gaze returned to Rosiel, full of sadness and fear. She closed her hands before her, clasping them at her waist, in her usual way. Her eyes stayed fixed on Rosiel's face, ignoring the gun pointed at her. Outwardly steady, inside, Faye felt as if all the analytical connections her brain has ever made were floating away into nonsense. This must be what the fairy-tale character Alice had felt as the world beyond the looking-glass seemed to have no reason. It was terrifying, but it was not a feeling Faye was unused to. Sudden urges threatened to control her, wanting to dance, wanting to tear off her clothes. She felt the need to tear her own skin. She fought these feelings, as she always did. She ignored them and focused on Rosiel's face. She traced his features with her gaze and bored into his eyes, searching for something to anchor herself on.

---

Keovari moved on as his thoughts detached completely from finding Faye. He knew distantly that he would find her soon. The only explanation for this sudden difference in the snow was power, Faye's power, and it would lead him to her. Instead, his mind was occupied with himself. He could not shake the warmth in his chest that had began at his heart and was traveling slowly throughout his body. More confusing yet was this sudden, infinite sense of the need to protect Mystical. He felt entirely responsible for her. More so then his caring friendship had afforded in the past. Although he honestly loved Faye and felt compelled to protect and care for her more then his position asked, he did not feel this intensely deep need to protect her that he was now feeling for Mystical. This was an ache that blinded him. It was not as simple as wanting her safety any longer. He had suddenly felt as if he required it. The sudden force broke through his barriers of thought and feeling. A flood breaking the dam.
His arms and feet seemed to move of their own accord, stopping momentarily and pulling her closer. It was not as simple as carrying her any longer. He had pulled her into a tight embrace. The warmth in his body spread faster. The strange feelings were seeping out of him, his cold ice-blue eyes had melted. Keovari felt breathless, confused that he did. He turned his eyes to her green ones, half searching for help, half for something he could not define.
Suddenly, words spilled from his lips, the same low and uncertain tone he had used minutes ago, "My dear, darling Mystical, you must not cause yourself undue worry and therefore, harm. I am already... indescribably worried for you." His breath and words failed him momentarily, his barriers seeming to steadily right themselves, preventing the continued torrent of words... Of feelings. But he could not tear his eyes from hers, nor shield the intense feeling from being open to view through them.
Finally, he opened his mouth again. His words were softer now, and even more unsteady. He forced them out. "Please. My lady, Mystical. I apologize for my rashness and my actions just now and even as I currently speak. However, you must understand. I am suddenly overwhelmed by fear for you. I cannot understand what has come over me. However, before we move on. I need to feel that you will be all right," His voice faltered and broke off as his mind started to register how strangely he was acting for himself, "I must have you be all right."

---

Faye's mind flung itself around. She fought against it as it tried to break completely. No, this is not that traumatic. Not that bad. Do not allow yourself to lose control. Alyria. Deaths. The pain. Dear friends.
She took a sudden deep breath and things seemed to suddenly settle within again. Her eyes softened. Her expression developed an apologetic sadness, now lacking the fear she had felt before. Alyria was safely unmoved. Yet, that comfort that Alyria was still chained within left a hole. A subtle ache was now taking its place. A yearning for this to not be happening, a deep sadness that it was. Yet another friend who had held a weapon to her. Her heart ached furiously. He had been so kind. He had accepted her, offered her help. He had covered for her and gone far beyond any kindness she could have expected out of a good old friend, let alone a new one. Now he held a gun at her. She shuddered suddenly.
Another friend lost?

---

Keovari Seriph’s mind raced blindly. He did not understand his own actions. He was embarrassed of how blatantly open he had been with her. As if another person, he felt his body shaking very slightly. No cold could make Keovari shiver. Nothing should! What is happening to me? His mind rebelled from answering. He could not answer and would not. Fear of answers he may not like prevented him from truly considering.
But he was weak. He felt physically drained. Keovari almost never felt this way, even after long and furious battles, he would feel no less refreshed. No less steady.
Now, felt as if all of his energy was being sapped. Leeched by that heat his heart was radiating.

---

Faye could not stop shaking. It was not the cold that her real body felt which caused these shakes. No cold could reach her here. Nothing should! What is happening to me?
Her breath came steadily faster as she tried to hold back the tears. The internal pain seemed to multiply as she thought of all the people who had been lost to her. Of all the times her path would cross a friend’s and lead them to a similar position. Of all the swords which had brushed her skin as the eyes of a friend burned furiously into hers. Of the loss.
I do not wish for you to be another friend lost, Rosiel. I cannot lose another… I cannot handle Gabriel as things are, what would another lost so soon after being made to do me…
How selfish. She snapped back at herself suddenly. How incredibly un-thoughtful. It is your fault he is here, your fault that he pulled a gun on you, your fault. Take responsibility in whatever form it comes.
Faye resigned herself to what would happen. She was in his hands now. She would continue to trust her friend, no matter what.

---

Keovari tried to blot out the feelings slowly bubbling inside him. Anger that something was causing him this confusion and weakness and the warmth.

The comforting warmth which he was trying so hard to deny. The warmth fueling his need to protect her. Pushing him to act so strangely. Making him feel something incredible. The warmth which, as it had dawned on him, came from her presence.
No… That is silly… I can not… Can I?

Keovari suddenly felt that his heart was in his throat.

Mystical found herself stealing secret glances as the man holding her. His eyes enchanted the Lady. Those gorgeous blue-white orbs held her gaze for a moment before she blinked back to her senses and averted her attention back to the path ahead.

The familiar voice of the Guardian gently caressed her ear as he pressed on. Was he apologizing again? A soft sigh whispered from her lips as she lowered her head slowly in shame. “ Nay, it is -I- who should be apologizing to -you- m’lord. Here you are, having to carry me like some invalid when your efforts would be better spent finding and tending to your Ward.” Her voice was soft, barely audible. She spoke almost as if she did not expect him to even hear her at all. One could tell more thoughts were brewing in her mind, but the drastic change in the landscape cut short anything she had intended to say.

What in the world could have possibly caused such a dramatic shift in the snow content of the area? It was almost as if some force were draining away the snow itself. Faye! That had to be it! But why would she need to draw on nature’s energy like this? Thoughts raced through the woman’s mind and only served to deepen her worry. In a subconscious reaction she found herself sinking closer into the man’s arms for comfort.

In a panicked and fear-stricken state, Mystical gently tucked her face in close against the Spirit’s neck. Her deep-green eyes soon closed tight wile she hesitantly reached out, grasping for something, anything to set her nerves at ease and reassure her that her dear friend was alright. Sadly her findings only brought more worry to the already overwhelmed woman. There was another, one of great power, the likes of which she had not felt in years and years. If her suspicions proved true, this could mean Faye was in grave danger, and it would explain the need such an intake of energy.