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Subject: ...


Author:
Saeven
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Date Posted: 21:18:59 04/01/02 Mon

Saeven forces herself to sit down and seem more relaxed. Tarkin, too, she can tell, is a little flustered. She doesn't like to think that she's affecting his mood like that.

"I did," she answered. "I met Connell in Wales. I was there for a few years before that. But I decided to take up traveling with him. For a time, at least. The years have passed both in the blink of an eye and very slowly for me. Before I returned to Wales I went to the Norse countries and bore a son, but he resides in Faery. So many do these days. I love this earth too much, I think, to leave it."

She pauses, silent for a moment. "But you," she observes, looking Tarkin over, "seem little affected by the years. For a human." ((Oh, please tell me it was Tarkin with the expanded life span from his father. ^^;))

She's glad that the cat form conveys so much less emotion. She would be terrified if she was in her faery form. He would be able to see right through her, see how her desperate love for him hadn't left. How it almost broke her heart to see him now. And he wouldn't even turn her away. Why must he be so damned nice?

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