Somehow the man knew what she was going to say before she said it. Apparently Shawchert was far more in tune with his instincts and sixth sense than Orin thought, being such a purveyor of their primal instincts herself. Her words had skirted around what she wanted to get at, yet it was enough to warn Shawchert of what was coming. She felt her throat go tight and her blood run cold. She never wanted to hurt him.
“I know you would never fail me and forget about our ceremony. I know that it would happen, just at the right time. It's just... all this time it's taken... it's not the time that's the problem, exactly. But with it, I've had a chance to think. I... love being with you and I like what we have together but... When I look back... or when I look forward... I can't imagine our future.” She shook her head to emphasize her point.
“And I should be able to. It should be so clear and easy to see what we would have. I just, I try... and it doesn't come. There's no dreams there. Just more of... this.” She waved her arms, trying to indicate how the same everything always was. “We're... stagnant. Nothing changes. It's all a life of picnics and patrolling. I guess... I don't know what else I'm looking for, but I can't see myself doing this forever. We don't even... we don't even do anything together. We just are.”
From time to time her voice became little more than a strained whisper. She took a step back. “I can't make a vow for a future that I don't feel like I want to keep.”
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