"I...fear you, Morningstar."

She feared me. I wanted to yell, to plead, to tell her that the Morningstar before her was the one that danced with her across the sands, the one that she had introduced beauty to in a songless land. Not the one that so callously tore her budding trust to pieces, the one that laughed when she cried and who sneered at her now, at me.

But to say so would be madness.

So I bit my tongue, watching her with a strange calmness, a faint cloud to my thoughts. It was...disturbing. I attributed it to the plant she gave me, and he hissed. He would believe that she would poison us, that she did so purposely to glean the answers she sought from ou-my lips.

But her question, the first of three, is one that has me rocking back on my heels in shock. Out of all the questions she could ask, out of them ALL, she chooses this one? One of the most trivial? Or...trivial to me, perhaps, but I cannot fathom her logic behind it, behind asking that. Who have I fucked or tried to. It's rather...awkward, really.

"Well... I have only truly 'fucked' fou-...well five women in my life. Aramere, Rhoannon, Ampere, Arvakl and Alija." Huh. I seemed to enjoy the 'A' mares... Weird. I blamed the plant for that rather amusing realization.

Onward to the next topic... "As for those I have made a pass towards... I know not the number." I'm not ashamed to admit such; how can one be expected to remeber every single almost-one-night-stand? The mares I had named, those I did end up screwing... they made impressions. Otherwise, honestly, I wouldn't have put forth the effort.

Aramere had been my beloved, my first and truly my last; my first to love and my last to love.

Rhoannon had been my mentor, my mistress, who seemed to enjoy teaching me all the facts of life...and it's pleasurable moments.

Ampere had snagged my attention from the start, snared me in her wildness and play, and admittedly I still longed to fly with her across the sky and continue our little affair.

Arvakl had been quite the interesting lay, and still keeps me on my toes about the safety of my twins, but she amuses me in her sarcasm and screeching... guess I like the banshees.

And Alija... I almost consider her a friend, as much as I can consider any. She does not despise me for what occurred between us, or the result.

I do not say these things to Morrigan, she does not need to hear them and I do not need to tear her wound, her trust, open more. Ironically, oddly, fascinatingly... I questioned which of us was the patient, and which one the doctor? Or were we both hurt and injured, seeking treatment from one that could not provide a full cure?

@[Morrigan]

"Altan's speech."
"Buce's speech."