Like a mouse she is quiet, shy. Every movement makes her scurry off in the opposite direction with fear in glossy eyes. Kaj had long been called a lion in the form of a pegasus, originating from the first person he had ever befriended in Helovia, but his claws were always carefully hidden and pads gentle with those who meant him no harm. Delicious she may be, it really was too much of a hassle to devour her. Too much hair after all; yuck. Imagine chewing through that? He’d be spitting up hairballs left and right. Bit too much like a lion for him. Additionally, women didn’t seem all that pleasant when it came to eating them. Much too high strung, did that mean they were stringy and tough to chew? Oh Gods, why was he imagining eating innocent little mares in a snowy wonderland?! He wasn’t some fairytale pervert preying on the sexist-manipulated characters of a children’s book! Gods he knew he had a wandering mind, but just where did it go sometimes?! Quick, focus on her, she’s speaking!

Great distraction, now at least he could stop wailing in distress within the confines of his own mind. No wonder people looked at him strange.

Untrained tongue stumbled over alien sounds, forming delicately over a pronunciation she had heard only once in passing. It was clear she did not know the language, but a spark went sashaying down his spine just to hear someone else speak it. How long since it had rolled in rough, rumbly purrs off his own tongue? It was like a long-forgotten friend, whose face was still familiar after years apart and the changes of life upon his visage. At least the little fae seemed content with the nickname.

Not that it seemed to keep her intense eyes from pinning him, as if he were the mouse and she the cat. It was clear she was struggling with the decision, and something far deeper spoke of passion and romance, guilt and remorse, fight and fear. Just how important was a gentleman’s wing to her shoulder to the fae? Was he perhaps crossing a border, a boundary, or triggering an unpleasant memory? He desired to do neither, knowing just how fragile young souls could be. His sister’s smiling, dainty face flashed in his mind’s eye, and he squeezed them tight against the real world in response. A dull ache began in his chest, the beating of a half-crazed prisoner against iron bars that did not yield, spilling blood from his fists without remorse as he wailed and bellowed that he would be free if they had just given him the chance to fight back against something he could actually see. A disease cannot be battled, and a life cannot be spared if the immortals beckon so sweetly into the child’s ear. Something pure and delicate was shared between those two childlike does, and it was impossible to ignore the ghost of his failed duties when he looked at the beautiful mare his sister could have become.

There is nothing else you can do to help her, you have failed once as it is.

Verbally she seemed to echo the prior half of his sentence, and with a quiet hum he nodded. "Very well. You have my word that I will lead you true, miss Resplendence." That is all to be said, and with her kiss to his brow he rises, watching her shrink away and still in her lungs like a statue, uncaring of the violent trembling housed in her limbs. She is a contradiction, one he cannot understand even beyond the normal puzzlement he holds towards the Helovians. Slowly she moves towards his side, sheltered by the slope of his large wing. She cowers in the crevice of his body, eyes flickering fearfully towards the soft golden feathers to her left. Quietly she begins to speak, and now her words do not hold that quiet strength they once did. Now, they break and tremble like she does, fearfully inquiring if his wings house anything sharp. An item that could possibly maim another in battle. Confusion takes over his features, a dumbstruck look pasted right there where she could see it.

”Sharp...? Oh no, no, no kleine aardbei. My wings are as soft as a bird’s, they have nothing sharp or painful within them. In fact, they are more a disadvantage in battle than anything else, for they are fragile and delicate, and useful only in flight. If I were to hit somebody with my wing, it would bruise me very quickly, and hurt a terrible lot. Fear not, kleine aardbei. They are soft as a cloud, you have my word.” Her torn ear- or was it completely missing?- was shown to him in her nervous shuffling, but he kindly looked away and did not comment on it. She was flighty as it was, he wouldn’t put the spotlight on her if it would only make her uncomfortable- or worse, stress her out even more. With the baby steps they’d been making together, Kaj was reluctant to do anything to have her take a step back in their long line ahead.

Could he ever get her to trust him?

Scoffing inwardly, the brute felt like slapping himself. Clearly with all she had endured she would not trust easily, and he was wishing for her to do so when they had first met? He was a fool to think she would follow him so blindly, think he would not wound her when so many others clearly had. Kaj was more than idiotic, more than presumptuous, and he wanted to apologize to her immediately; even if she hadn’t heard a thing. Her trembling saddened him, but the clench of her eyes betrayed her own frustration. At the very least, he’d been granted permission to lead her out of the clutch of the wintery ‘scape into the shelter of the evergreens. Humming softly in acknowledgement, not wanting to frighten her even more with his voice, he pushed earthenly coated pillars through the snowdrifts to take point in the two-man team. Of course he was mindful enough of his longer legs, keeping the pace on his end slower to account for her slighter frame. If only he could show her that he’d never harm someone who did not wish the same upon him.