A heart could walk a thousand miles through a body that relied upon it, could pump blood and urge organs into life, could transfer oxygen and nutrients. It was the center of the body, the strongest and most capable organ of any creature. And yet, it was the weakest. The heart was prone to pity and sympathy, to rage and fear. Yet worst of all, the downfall to the mightiest of any beast, the heart was weak to love.

Kaj did not understand those who proclaimed love to be the weakest of all emotions capable of being experienced. It could turn even the smallest of underdogs into a warrior emblazoned with it, could turn a tired mother into a ferocious guardian, and could crumble empires with secrecy and love sprouting in places it ought not to. Yet it was also the most powerful because it could cripple and kill those foolish enough to think it benign. Love was not benevolent. It did not always heal and encompass tired hearts. Rather, when it had tricked the foolish into trusting it, love would whirl and sink its teeth into the tender, aching flesh of the heart it had inhabited. It would tear and rend, destroy everything the poor bastard housing that useless lump of flesh could have counted upon.

Kaj had experienced so many forms of love, he at times doubted there were other shades and sides to the emotion. At times it felt more like an object, a sentient being, than a mere experience caused by chemicals in his brain. There was a reason love was often compared to an arrow, after all. And Kaj had too many puncture wounds to carry on, his heart too sparse and gold for the horrors love adored inflicting upon it.

Why then, he had chosen the Grove to hide away in, was beyond him. Did he want to inflict more pain upon himself? Was he punishing himself? Or was he trying to surround himself with those who had been favored by love, unlike himself?

Even his sister had been torn away from him, his familial love destroyed and his romantic love a laughable matter. Kaj and love had never gotten along, and it ached to know that he was but a pawn on a board of fate.

The king ambled towards one of the willows, tall and ancient, with soft tendrils that formed a sanctuary of silence and privacy. Ducking between the fronds, they kissed his hide and feathers almost apologetically. It would do not good, for even Kaj could not be forgiving in this mannerism. He disappeared within, curling up at the base of the tree, as small as his mountainous form would allow him. A sorrowful sigh escaped him in a rush, and he fell into silence, embracing solitude. Loneliness crawled beside him, seeking his embrace, and he allowed the manifestation to cling to the dredges of his pitiable soul. There was not much left for it to feed upon, anyways.

@[Cirrus]

Intuition was the most inexplicable way of knowing, as it stirred the gut and hummed against the mind with a subtle urgency that often touched the perceptive conscious. Though the dancer was quiet in her rounds, something played and trickled at the edge of the mighty beast's mind, like silver raindrops on a golden pane. Beautifully elusive. Frowning quietly, the giant lifted his mighty head, the palest of aquamarine blinking out at the curtain of pale summer green. It obstructed his vision, shrouded the maiden from his gaze, not that he was aware she was out there. Yet whatever itch had gotten under his skin could not be scratched by logic, and with a mighty groan the king hefted back up to his hooves. Dew clung to his skin, illuminating each follicle on his flight feathers that he did not bother to shake free. If it was truly nothing as he'd tried to convince himself, the storm caller wouldn't need to make himself presentable.

Soft tendrils parted as he pushed his bulk through, a curtain to the stage the oddly colored warrior had made her stage. Though it was a comfort to realize that no, he was not in fact insane, Kaj did not know how to approach the situation tactfully. At first he was rather taken aback by the coloring upon her coat, for it was not really a color at all. It was like gazing into the clearest of ponds, still and glassy, a perfect reflection. Though many did not regard Kaj as a particularly intelligent individual, he was not blind to the fact that the young lass was reflecting the appearance of the skies above. It was not as surprising as it might have been, especially after meeting individuals like Mirage, Vikram, and Gaucho. Was it within his right to break her spell? Even one she had cast upon herself and the immediate vicinity? Or would she rebuff him? It seemed he was not the only one who had sought the grove for its peace, though...perhaps not. Something seemed to be driving the limber lady onward.

"Am I intruding?" It rumbled from his lips like thunder and earthquakes, but it was inherently gentle, not desiring to frighten or spook the cloud-canvased flyer. Still half within the fronds of the tree, little tendrils like grabbing hands curling round the apex of his wings, Kaj gazed evenly at her. Truly she was the one intruding, as he had surely arrived earlier, but he would leave if she found his presence uncomfortable. It was simply the kinder thing to do. The grove was not his to claim, and he was willing to sacrifice his own sanctuary for her out of habit and genuine kindness.

@[Cirrus] Your signature says you like to be tagged but if you ever don't want me to, just tell me!

Though he had not thought his greeting to be particularly invasive or disruptive, it seemed the young mare thought otherwise. Her sudden action had him dissolving into a flashback, of the mages he'd once protected, the ones he had been ordered and molded into dying for at the nearest moment. Explosives, weapons, spells...all could be cast with the movement the mare had begun to make. Muscle tensed and bulged, wings tucking tight and narrowing the field of her attack, preparing for an onslaught. Teeth bared, ears pinned, and he sidestepped with surprising agility for someone with such a large frame. A spear whistled by, removed from even where he had been moments ago. The both of them stood heaving, she from exertion and he from adrenaline, flames dancing in the pale blues of his eyes. The desire to be angry was strong, but he did not allow such a response. Not until he had all the facts.

Silence was all that met her cautious words, and Kaj remained rooted, a stone in his own right as he mulled over the simplistic, insincere words he'd been awarded for his troubles. Instead, his stare was similarly piercing, unwavering. As if desiring to dissect her, find the truth in the folds of her brain, the reaction that thrummed in the sinews of her muscle. Take her apart bit by bit until he was satisfied with a veritable answer.

Her approach, her movement, forced in him a similarly instinctive movement. Widening of wings, of stance, and a narrowing of eyes. Remnants of the adrenaline that had nearly had him surging at her, bowling her over and smashing her bones to protect a mage he no longer had at his back. It reminded him sorely of Ink, of how he'd reacted to the mare that had attempted to creep upon them. It was a reaction he had not had dredged up for many years, and forcing himself to think in any higher level rather than animalistic was difficult.

Sucking in a deep breath, his wings began to deflate, posture taking a turn for normality. A quick shuttering of his eyes, and he had found his balance enough to return her words. Not in the manner she'd perhaps anticipated, though.

"You did not look before throwing your weapon, that is why," he remarked succinctly. Kaj did not appreciate the thoughtless action, he found it rather despicable, but only the deep disappointment in his eyes would tell her that. He was rather a man of action and physicality over words. "I apologize for my own reaction, it brought up...unsavory memories." Not that she hadn't deserved them, but Kaj understood that his own reasons for his reaction could likely be the same type of reasons for her initial one. Action reaction, a chain of events that Kaj had thought he'd grown out of. A dry smile pulled his lips.

"I would have been more considerate to shocking you, but my time in Helovia has taught me new things. Helovians are generally far less...violent in their reactions. I apologize for my thoughtlessness," he grunted softly, a tinge of amusement folded away in the fissures of his azures. Turning, he gave Cirrus a wide berth as he stepped out of the tree's grasp and away, allowing her to reclaim her spear comfortably with his absence. Also because he was still rather intrigued by her coloring. It reminded him of the spells the mages would weave to give them the advantage of surprise in the sky raids. Was that her affliction, or was she simply born that way? Kaj found it would likely be impolite to question her that way, and so held his tongue.

"My name is Kaj, King of the World's Edge. What brings you here, and in such a...what is the word? Fizzy?" His tongue tripped dumb and frustrating over the popular idiom, and a fierce ache settled in his heart as he recalled how Evangeline used to patiently correct him, laughter etched in the lines of her face. His face displayed his sudden pain, his sorrow, before he concealed it quickly if a bit messily. Now was not the time to be making a bad impression, though he thought with amusement that perhaps she should give him some leeway after nearly taking his head off.

Her youth lent to her a riotous ignorance that Kaj envied and despaired over in equal parts. It was she who had disturbed his one moment of peace free from the chains of his herd and title, it should be he who was rightfully distressed and upset. Instead, he found no flare or fire in the depths of his breast, merely cold coals that told him he'd been fighting too hard for too long to give to her what she so desired. Helovians still remained beyond his reach of understanding, and their hierarchies only gave him lasting headaches that persisted throughout his attempts to comprehend them. Magic, at least, he could understand. She displayed it with every twist and turn of her lithe bodice, the only thing Kaj knew concretely. Perhaps he could rely upon that throughout their encounter, if nothing else.

"I concede that there are ways to see without looking, but you could have been bested by an outraged opponent in your tired state. I had merely been dozing, I could take your action as a grievance insult you know," he said lightly, amusement twinkling in powder blue eyes to show that he was merely jesting by pushing the issue. It was no harm done, after all, and Kaj was not so strict and severe to hold it against her as another leader perhaps might have. There were a thousand different tales and stories that defined her actions, her habits, just as they did his own. Until he knew them, he could not rightly judge her based on what he'd seen and experienced firsthand. At least, that was the Storm Bringer's personal philosophy.

Deep laughter brewed in his chest at her concise response, though his face was quizzical. "Is that not what you Helovians insist on doing?" he asked, hoping for clarification. "I have only been subjected to excessive apologies in my seasons here, though I regret to inform you that I've also experienced little outside of my own kingdom." Kaj's title kept him firmly chained to his empire rather often, but it was a relinquishment of independence that he had willingly given. He contemplated the information she'd given him as they switched places, she within the tickling boughs of the willow and he without it.

After only a moment of careless distraction, he noticed she had poked her tiara back through the fronds, gazing upon him with eyes reminiscent to the sparks that lay just within reach of his magic. She had shown herself to be just as intense, and it was exhilarating for lack of a better word. Kaj had known many mares in his years, Evangeline perhaps the most electric of the group in which he had foolishly given his heart, but Cirrus was otherworldly in her mannerisms and pride. It was certainly intriguing, if nothing else, and Kaj found himself ridiculously hoping that she would deign to remain with him in the clearing.

Words take him by surprise, but he is carefully poised to not show it himself, a habit taken from years of being a mere wall of meat for his mage. Contemplating them, tasting them, he cast his eyes slowly upon her as if thinking she would run at the mere mention of emotions in their frankness. She certainly seemed the type. Would it be too bold, to ask her what caused her heart such pain for this to be a normal occurrence? Then again, she had extended the nonverbal offer by revealing her agony, so Kaj alighted upon it as tenderly as he could manage.

"May I know?" he asked softly, eyes serious and ears attentive. "I am not so presumptuous to think I can help," he assured, azures like calm waters inviting her to step within them, to trust him just once, so that he could take the chance to show her that it was not in vain. "A story for a story is only fair," he decided, a silent hand thrust between them, a promise that he would walk the path of hard memories beside her if she so sought to use it as an escape, a reasoning, for doing so for him.

@[Cirrus]

She was amusing, if an enigma. For some reason, Kaj found her interesting, and beyond that, he found her...enlightening to be around. She was so drastically different from those he knew in Helovia, and he liked it. She reminded him a lot of the mages from his homeland, a dangerous comparison considering his own emotions regarding the dark past he dared not ruminate on. Yet, there was also something that kept her from falling into that category, something new and unforeseen. A group she created that held her and her alone, and Kaj wanted so badly for her to give up her secrets if only so he could place her somewhere. Understand her. Yet her mystery only made her more enticing, only encouraged him to remain where he was rather than walk away and leave her to her thoughts and morning runs.

A wink and a smile lent him further amusement, and he smiled upon her, glad that his foolery was well received and even returned. "I would not deign to call you foolish. Would it not be I, for knowing so little?" his eyes twinkled with a rare amusement, struggling through the darkness that he was unaware would darken and grow heavier with the future he could not see. "Though I quite appreciate the kick in the rump, too many treat me with utmost care," Kaj laughed, though the truthfulness was a giveaway to his sincerity in his appreciation of her actions.

Like a flower that bloomed only during the nighttime, she shrank away from his question, closing up and retreating away from the truth he quietly sought. He remained in his station, quiet, immobile. He had slid his pawn across the board, face to face with her queen. He folded his hands into his lap, even as his eyes never flickered or wavered from the delicate expanse of her features, so shielded and distrustful. It was her move. Kaj would do nothing to poke, prod, or pry. If she did not want to give him an answer, that was her decision. Her business was not his, and though he'd like to make it if only in one manner, Cirrus had the right to reject and spurn him for his curiosity. Still, something told Kaj that somehow, that wouldn't be the case.

Her coat changed, odd, reflecting the new clouds that formed overhead. It reminded him a lot of his own magic, but he did not dare to let his surprise show, fearing she would use the reprieve to shield herself away. Hide from him. And for some reason, Kaj didn't want that.

Her words were soft, tentative, but he waited through the hesitancy and the trepidation. He merely gazed at her, allowing her the anchor of his gaze should she need it to steady herself. He never wavered, allowed the lows and the highs to wash over him like waves, and in his heart he understood her pain. Perhaps not in the same way, but nobody ever really could. But the pain, the loss, the grief...that, he could understand.

What hurt most was seeing how she buried her head against her leg to wipe her tears. That she was so used to being alone, to suffering with nobody there, that she instinctively comforted herself. It hurt to know that nobody had cared enough to be there for her, to wipe her tears for her. Kaj wondered if she'd even let him think about being that person for her.

Stepping forward, he did so slowly, allowing her to back away or chase him from her form. Crown dipped towards her, drawn to the magnetism of her grief, seeking to find her muzzle with his own, give her some sort of reason to lift her head and see the future with him. Allow him to comfort her, even if he didn't wholly understand.

"I cannot express my regret properly," he whispered, wishing she would meet his eyes if only to see his sincerity. "I am sorry that I asked you to relive it. I can only hope that sharing it with me has been cathartic for you...just know that I will carry this for you, what little it may help." Whether she cared for or even wanted his help, Kaj didn't care. He'd do it anyway. Because somewhere in her eyes, he saw how broken she was, and he respected how strong she was in spite of that fact. Dropping his muzzle whether she returned the proffered touch or not, he swallowed and tried to move his suddenly leaden tongue with the daunting prospect ahead. "It is only fair that I tell my own story, to respect the huge honor you have done me in revealing something so intimate about yourself." Would she care? If anything, it would be a distraction from her turmoil, could potentially keep her from curling in and deflecting him. Kaj didn't want her going to a place where he could not reach or help her.

"Where I hail from, there are Mages and there are Guards. Only mares were Mages, and only stallions were Guards. Mages had incredible magic, and they were the ones who fought one another. They were of utmost importance. Each Mage had a Guard, a stallion with no magical ability. If a colt was born with magic, it was promptly killed. Magicless fillies only survived because they could potentially spawn a magic filly..." Kaj wondered if it would have been kinder for that not to have been a rule. If Aniela would have been better off dead from the start, free from the suffering that she would face in her short two years of life. Still, he was a selfish man, and he cherished those few memories he had of his sickly sister. Even if it would have been a kinder fate, Kaj never would have wanted it.

"When the Mages' energy drained, their Guards came into play. We were meant to be physical shields, nothing more. The death toll for Guards were horrifically high, so pregnancies and aging were sped along by magic. We would be subjected to a thousand excruciating magic types, but we were fighters. We knew only our Mages and death..." his eyes grew distant, muscular body tensing and relaxing in a ripple of scarred hide, sensory memory. He shuddered beneath the force of it, feeling like he'd vomit with the memories that assaulted him, ones he'd happily repressed the moment he'd left.

And then his eyes and voice grew soft, mountainous form softening from its former rigidity. "And then, my mother, she had another foal. She was born too soon, and magic could do nothing to help her. She was...so tiny," he whispered, pain resonating through his features in a spasm, but his eyes were full of tortured, aching love. "Mother nearly killed her, but I promised to care for her. She wouldn't even name the poor thing. But the moment I saw her, I felt such love..." he choked, throat convulsing as he cleared it painfully, forcing himself onward. Cirrus had not failed in her story, Kaj would take a piece of advice from her book and do the same. Even if it killed him to remember.

"I named her Aniela. She was beautiful in ways I'd never seen, in all my years of magic and war. Her laugh was like birdsong, I never saw her without a smile. And I loved her, I loved her," he whispered, lost in the distant echo of that laugh in his ears, nearly prompting him to look up and around for a figure that would never really be there. He refrained, knowing it would only bring him further pain. "She accepted her fate with grace, she was afraid of dying but she knew it was inevitable. I was the one who couldn't be okay with it, couldn't admit to myself that it was a lost cause. She only ever saw good in this horrible world," Kaj's voice strained, hatred for fate and her cruel ways coloring each vocal chord with longing and agony.

"I lost her before she reached her fourth solstice." And like that, the emotions withered away into nothingness. A mere fact. "I left because I couldn't bear to see their apathy, and I realized that I would rather die than live there and find the same fate. I thought I would find something better here, in Helovia. Even with my problems understanding, I thought maybe I could find reprieve." He laughed hollowly and shook his head, eyes far away. "Instead, mare after mare took my heart and told me it was forever. And then they took a bite out of it, spat it out, and left. Love is just as tarnished here in romance as it was there in family," Kaj concluded, voice low enough that his chest rumbled with each syllable. It was partially spat out, would have been completely if he had the energy to do so.

"If Sitka was to you what Aniela was to me...then no amount of apologies can ever heal you. It comes from you trying to move on, preserving their memory but living on because you know they would have wanted it. I seek love because it's what she wanted for me. Perhaps it is life and purpose that Sitka would have wanted for you," he said quietly. It was a daring thing to say, truly, because he was potentially crossing a lot of lines in that moment by assuming what Sitka would have wanted for Cirrus. Pretending to know who Sitka was, what he was like, embodied. But Kaj at least had to try, if only for Cirrus' sake.

@[Cirrus] - So originally I had no muse to start this post, but once I finally COULD start it, it exploded. I'msosorry.

She was lost at sea, so far away from him even when he was inches from her skin. A storm brewed above them, a warning, foreboding. It had kept so many others away from her, hadn't it? But Kaj was the Storm Bringer and the Sun in one, he could not be frightened by the thunder and rain of her sorrow and fury. She could not hide from him, not if he truly sought her. But he allowed her her privacy, her time to ruminate, to wallow in that misery that stung and caught in his own throat. She was so beautiful to him then, in that moment, because even when she seemed to be torn apart by the winds of her own despair, she stood strong and stolid in her own storm. She faced that pit of darkness with a warrior's brow and a heart too full of love that had no familiar outlet any longer. So he waited beside her, because it was all he could offer her. Whether it meant anything to her or not was not something he could discern, but a quiet whisper in the back of his head truthfully confessed that he hoped it did.

Even when she stilled, when she trembled so finely and delicately that it seemed unfitting for her, he weathered on. A rock. Unmoved. She jerked against him, too rough, but he flared his nostrils and shared his scent with her, taking her in selfishly to keep as his own as well. He waited for her, waited for her decision, for her to see that nothing she could do in that moment could make him think any less of her. He could be so many things, from warrior to brother to lover. Why could she not do the same? Feel as if she could? She danced towards him, a tremulous chord that drew her closer, and he echoed it with a tilt of his frame towards her, inviting, promising shelter should she seek it. He could carry their burdens for the both of them, if she only asked him. He would lead her out of her darkness because he could see, somehow, that she was more than deserving of it. That she had been left so alone, for so long already, itched beneath his skin and ground his teeth together. He could only hope it was therefore self-imposed.

As he spoke he lifted his tired gaze to her face intermittently, and lost his breath to a sudden wave of shock to see the dips and curves of her face wet with tears he hadn't let himself shed. Ones that she had shed for him. He choked, plainly, there for her to see, to realize. Was shocked into a stumbled step toward her, she with her impeccable, beautiful gravity that he couldn't get away from. Why was she so intoxicating to him? Her with her armor, her strength, her wounded soul and beautiful, broken eyes? He had always tried to be the knight in shining armor, but he found her power and her pain so equally beautiful. That she fought on in spite of everything that had happened to her. And he bit against it, balked and scraped his heels with how he fought it, because he had nothing left of his heart to give her. He had been hurt too many times.

And she? She would break it more than the others ever had, with her storms and her beauty and her scared, gentle insides. He couldn't even allow himself to think about it, and why he did it so early was beyond him. Why he could see himself beside her, from the moment he met her, boggled his mind. And he hated himself for his weakness, but he felt his heart in his throat still in that moment, to see her cry for his pain, for his past. Nobody had ever cried for him, and it made him weak, so weak, that he stumbled and let his wings move as if to embrace her. They trembled along each feather, each filament, and he rustled them gently to take the edge off the heat that her own weather changes had incurred, bathed her hide in cooler waves of air, as gentle a zephyr as he could make them.

"Please don't cry for me," he whispered, his voice thick with his pleading, the feeling he did not dare acknowledge. His muzzle moved forth a second time, lips aching to touch the wet trails across her cheeks, if she would let him just one more time partake in the touch of her skin. Kiss and brush away the tears she'd shed for him. "I hate to see you cry," he whispered, the confusion he felt an undercurrent in each word, because he didn't know why her sorrow for him made him feel so helpless, so touched. And her muzzle moved forth, and he dropped his own farther to meet her, to let their velvet skin brush together. He drew his own strength back into his body with her touch, letting a deep shaky breath turn him firmer, more grounded as she breathed courage back into his body. "I wish I could help you more," he confessed into her skin, hoping he wouldn't stumble and scare her away from him forever with his honesty.

@[Cirrus]