That he would not have allowed her to touch him had not crossed her mind and as she stood there, neck draped across him, feeling the warmth of his body pressing against her own, she felt home. The same sort of home she felt when she was safe within the walls of her home, safe within the walls she had created, safe within those walls that every day she was beginning to think of as a cage rather than as a protection.

Funny, how an ice spike had been the climax of Torasin’s story, and her story now as well. It was beside her still, standing, pointing skyward, threatening her tender flesh with it’s jagged end but she felt no fear. There was no fire here, just the warmth of friendship, of testing the waters, of seeing what there was to found in this new sort of understanding that had hatched between them. It was not much, but perhaps it was the first step. Perhaps this could be the beginning of the end of a Romeo and Juliet story- a story with a happier ending. Two houses divided, brought together not by lovers, but by friends, the feud ended, peace and happiness found between them. Could it ever be, or would the hate that ran between them hold too strong? Kahlua didn’t know, but she hoped.

Thank you, Kahlua. It was enough. He had accepted her, believed in her when many would not have. Was it his way of repaying her for her trust in him, her forgiveness of his fear? Was she even qualified to forgive his fear? Was there anything to forgive at all? There were so many questions, but none that she never asked herself. If they were found in her brain at all, they were mere wisps of feeling, whispers of thoughts that did not solidify.

With his nose extended towards hers, she reached out as well, letting him touch her, exhaling as he did so, softly, a stream of warm air to rush around his muzzle. And when they were done, the moment past, she found her voice again. “My family burned in fire. I ran.” The words were soft, slow, forced from her mouth because to say them was to call herself a coward. And though she was a coward, and would almost always run from danger if it threatened her life, it still hurt to say it out loud, to hear the words in her own ears instead of in her head. I ran. But what could she have done?

Would it help him know why she had changed her mind? Would he know that she feared fire too, that the fires that burned in the Edge were nice but she dare not venture so close to them as Smoke did? Funny, how even through all of this, his face did not change. The capricious overo did not understand, but she was coming to enjoy it as an endearing part of who this mysterious rogue, killer king was.

“What will you do?” she asked after a few more moments, not even sure what she meant herself. What would he do now, in this instant? What would he do when the trial came, or if it came? What would he do afterwards? Would he stay a wanderer of the wilds, keeping his body distant from them to keep his heart distant from them? But perhaps out of all of these meanings, she meant something slightly different. What do you want to do.