He had thought his resolve unshakable. That, despite how his heart ached for time to recalibrate itself back to a course where their love wasn't so completely tarnished, that he could handle the course that he was on. He was the Wildfire after all, a living, breathing, emblem of all that was strong and fastidious in the Dragon's Throat.

Wasn't he?

But as she said his name, somehow the dizzying anger of a few moments prior was clouded by the sound of her voice. That anger, so pure and easy to grasp at, had drifted farther away somehow, just when Gaucho wasn't looking. The word unforgivable rang in his mind, outlined in clear white fire and yet? Yet it was just there. A fact to be sure, but one that felt as though its power to motivate was slowly dwindling.

So he just wouldn't forgive her. Could they not still-

- but now she was coming closer, and the familiar heat that they had always called love roared within his loins spreading outwards every direction. Before, when he had been staring into the waters, he hadn't felt the cold of the storm or the drops of rain pelting his back. He still couldn't feel the storm, but now for an entirely different reason. He wanted her - as he always did, he could never deny that - but he wanted her more. Not more of her, but with more of him. All of him wanted her now; his heart and soul, as well as his body. But-

-unforgivable.

She was saying something. Distantly the words registered. ..away from you?

No, never- he wanted to say, but that warming sensation had numbed and simultaneously frozen every inch of him. He was hopeless to move as her pale form danced closer in the dim light of the storm.

He looked down at her, blue-gray gaze significantly softened from when they had first come to stand near each other only a few moments ago. He was tired now - tired of the fighting, of the difficult task for him to verbalized his emotions, but most of all, he was tired of bearing the grief of Sohalia's decision. She could forgive him, but he couldn't forgive her, and so it was he who was at fault for this chasm. He who bore the weight. Perhaps even no one was at fault. The two had their different moralities, their different moral compasses and codes, and each had acted as they thought best, each taking offence where it seemed necessary. They shot arrows past one another, and now that their quivers were emptied they could finally see that their targets weren't even there. Ever shot had missed.

Gaucho sighed.

Before he realized what he was doing one burning wing stretched forward. For a moment it appeared as though all he would do is light her face so that he could see her better, but then that flaming feather was stroking the side of her cheek. Just one stroke, from her eye down to where the bone curved. As he did so, he felt the words

I love, begin to blur in his mind as images of Kaj came into view. Instantly his wing tensed, and then jerked back. Had Kaj touched her there, with his wing? Where had she touched him? The dun drew in a sharp breath, eyes wide with disgust and sorrow.

He couldn't. It was as he thought it would be.

But..

but...

He did love her, as he always said he had. As he always would.

"Gaucho can't-" He whispered, being able to manage little more than that. His voice threatened to turn into a scream of anger at her once again for making so weak a mistake, but also to cry out at the unfairness of it all. But intermingled was a third sound, a sound of love mixed in thoroughly beneath the rain.

"Gaucho need to think," He continued clumsily, which wasn't entirely true. What he needed to do was go stare at something for a long time, and decide whether or not he could get over this, or whether he would see Kaj and Sohalia together every time he looked at the pale dove. "But-" His gaze focused and he looked at her now, this time actually seeing her. His blood had cooled some, but even so, his nostrils flared, releasing puffs of hot, needy air. "-stay in Throat."

The dun retreated a step, his antlered skull shaking slightly. To clear his head? To once again reiterate a general feeling of no, towards the entire situation? Why not both?

"Please." He concluded, his voice hoarse and gritty sounding, as if it came from deep within his chest, rather than forming in his mouth.