oh come forth
into the storm and rout
and be my love in the rain

For all that had invaded his mind and taken up roost, the storm maiden had never really left his attentions. It was a daunting idea, the potential that it all spoke of, how his mind never really strayed from her even in his busiest. She had appeared into his life like a typhoon, she had thrown a spear at him for a hello. And yet...well, who else could claim that that was how they had met? She appealed to his title, bringing her own little hurricane into his melancholic world, shaking him up like a glow stick and twisting him about until he could shine through once more. In the span of moments not only had she fiercely captured his attention, but she had made him feel alive once more. As if he could finally function, could finally breathe what felt less and less like smoke and ash. He couldn't deny his curiosity, the odd attraction to her personality, to the darkness in her eyes.

She had plucked a feather from his wing without a care, and though it stung he had stared in delighted bewilderment at her sass, her fire. And so he had allowed her to keep it, the tawny feather with the pale golden filaments. In her wake she had left her own, and he had grasped those as well, a sort of breathless emotion he dared not investigate or stoke burning anew in his chest. He'd had Valiance tie it into his mane, just in sight of his peripheral vision, and mumbled his way through an explanation to a smugly grinning Resplendence about whom it had come from. How could he explain the strange magnetism he already felt for the mare in the Grove without her berating him for feeling it so quickly? Kaj had lost his heart to too many, had watched them kiss and caress it only to suddenly sink their nails into it and tear it into meaty shreds. The idea of letting Cirrus anywhere near that power was terrifying, and he was no less of a stallion to admit that. She was an entirely new entity, capable of destroying where others had only damaged. Evangeline, Kahlua, dare he say even Mirage did not have the force and beauty that Cirrus brought to the floor. And he feared to see her again, aware she may throw another branch onto the slowly burning coals of what his thoughts created from her.

Yet still he worried for her regardless. She had lost something integral to her soul, and the pain she had shown to him had nearly swept him away on a tidal wave of her own grief. Kaj had always had a problem with trying to fix things, alleviate the pain of others. Though it made him no healer, it often led him to lovers whom he thought were in dire need of a knight in shining armor. The irony of the fact was that those seemingly helpless maidens always ended up stabbing a new iron stake into his heart. So he carefully kept himself from thinking of the captivating warrior too often, even though he was helpless to stop the smile that always attempted to spread across pale golden lips when her feather caught his eye.

So when the invasion was over and the meetings through, he found himself with her electric eyes and quiet tears as goodnight memories, her firestorm smile and playful feathers dancing in his head far more often without the worry of the invasion looming in his mind. Setting about his patrols was all that could keep thoughts of her at bay, the way she intrigued him almost addictive. He wanted to cast aside his plans and head south for the desert sooner than he had intended, if only to catch sight of her rather than converse with her Sultan. It was shameful, and he berated himself for it. But storm called to storm, and he could not keep his worries for her out of his mind. Had she succumbed to another bout of her grief? Did she have anyone else to help her keep it at bay? For a moment he was almost jealous, before sharply reminding himself that such emotions were inappropriate. But she had cried for him, had she not? Ah, the conflict in him was too strong.

The only benefit so far to the new lands was that flight was far easier. Though the foliage was thick and colorful, the falls made it a prime land for pegasi, and at last he was capable of patrolling from the skies. A content noise vibrated in his throat, preening towards the autumn sun with arched neck, a powerful surge of his wings seeking to thrust him further towards the warm rays on his skin. As he opened his eyes he saw another figure in the distance, swooping down towards the borders, an unidentifiable blur of movement. Tilting his wings, Kaj frowned softly to himself, a little wary of whom it was so soon after the invasion. The winds guided him well, the borders a blur of peace beneath him until he too dropped through the treetops and -

She was there.

Kaj felt his breath catch and he stumbled, quickly hiding that with a flush up his neck that he was glad could never be seen. She was grazing, a little listlessly, but she had a certain light about her that washed away Kaj's worries. She'd been better, then. A warm, welcoming smile stretched easily across his face as he nickered out to her in wordless greeting, lest she somehow missed him literally dropping down from the sky in front of her. "Cirrus," he breathed warmly, advancing towards her. The wind kept her feather apparent in his peripherals, and he wore it with pride, unafraid to display it before her. Except...wait...his heart caught momentarily to see the tiny flash of caramel in her mane, out of place brightness in a stormcloud of dark. She had worn his feather as well? No matter the chill of the outside air, all Kaj could feel in that moment was a pervasive, intimate sort of warmth.

"Should I be the one throwing the spear this time?" he chuckled, eyes fond and clearly teasing. He moved towards her easily, as if he'd ever stood a chance at staying away. Pale muzzle dipped towards her, seeking that familiarity, that close breathless touching they'd parted on if only for a moment. "You look well," was said softer, not as easily broadcasted, with an undercurrent of relief and delight to see her shining with the full power and beauty she possessed. "What brings you here?" Kaj tried not to be ashamed at the fact that as a Czar, he should have asked that first. He didn't dwell on what it meant that it was an afterthought with her.

@[Cirrus]