As in most encounters with Sohalia that were not pleasant, there was still a budding and flickering ray of pure light within himself. Always it encouraged him to forgive, to take her in his wings like he had so many times. To shower her in small points of light like he had done on the eve Zenobia had been conceived. The way that her eyes seemed to be impossibly bright, accented by the growing redness of tear-filled eyes threatened to break his resolve, to weaken his knees and his anger towards her-

but then, there was no anger, was there? There was only betrayal, and sadness.

Gaucho was not the type of creature to forgive, not really. For that which was forgivable, clearly wasn't so bad if forgiveness could even be offered. And that which was unforgivable could never be forgiven. Thus, this wasn't a matter of what Gaucho did, or didn't want to forgive. Had nothing to do with his capacity in that regard. This was unforgivable, no matter how much he might have wanted to. Such would have been weakness, and the dun was not weak.

Gaucho exhaled into the moist blackness, feeling his eyes blinking and searching for her regardless of the low visibility. The light from his wings outlined her body in pale red lines of fire, but she was mostly black to him - save for her eyes. Her eyes were pools of the deepest black, with only solitary pinpricks of white-hot light inside.

Gaucho-

She said his name, and he could feel his face wanted to tighten into a grimace, but he refused. Hearing her say it felt like a cool piece of satin being draped across his skin, only to be followed with razor blades. It hurt to hear her speak to him, but again, he refused to let it show.

He considered asking her why she had done what she had. Why she'd so carelessly thrown away the life they had together. He thought of demanding to know now all the things he had never asked her: why it was she ran, what had brought her back, why had she gone to the Falls again instead of returning home? Why Kaj? For how long? Did she love him? Why did he let him think it was okay to be with her? Why had she followed him back?

whywhywhywhywhywhywhy?

But none of it mattered. She was always the more clever of the two, especially when it came to verbalizing justifications (and excuses).

And so, as lightning flashed again and her face light up as bright and beautiful as it had ever been before, he asked the only thing he could think of:

"How could you?" His voice was level, but a ghost of the normally strong and confident tones that normally came from his black lips.