The scarred man's head bowed away from her gaze, and no longer did he seem the pillar of mystery he had always been - Jefferson was now simply a mortal man, defeated by the hand that fate had held for him. This scared her far deeper than any gruesomely bleeding wound might, for Alaine had known the pull of desperation with the intimacy of a lover, once. It had drawn her to this very ocean, and begged her into the cold quiet depths, there to remain with auburn hair waving like the most beautiful of seaweed.
But she had been weak, when her body had been strong - instinct had over-rode her mind, and the ocean had relented its icy hold on the woman's sweetly curved body. Her willpower had been too fragile after miscarriage to overcome her lungs' desperate cries for air. But this was where Jefferson frightened her most, for his mind was surely far stronger than hers.
The icy water swelled around her knees, which had now sunk slightly into the wet sand. It felt, for a horrible moment, that the sea was slowly trying to reclaim what had been lost to it, so long ago. His words stirred the poison within her, and the woman turned her gaze to the choppy grey water beyond. Her elegant ivory hands, small and skillful, curled into fists. "Liar," This time, there was a bite to the woman's tone. Her emerald eyes returned to the cyclops, but they were hardened by her own emotion. "Don't pretend that I am nothing. Don't believe that I can be ordered home by you," Perhaps, she could rouse him to anger, and find a way out of the despaired hollowness that had stolen away the man she had once considered a valuable friend.
They had met infrequently, but enough - Enough for her to know some of the working of his mind. In spite of his negativity, Jefferson was a generally noble man. He had mocked her once for her innocence and her apparent youth - Just a girl she'd been. No longer. Without touching him, she settled into the sand beside the man, and began to shiver. Her silky pelt was not as thick as his, and the icy water would numb and freeze her much quicker. "My freedom is mine, and I will help whomever I choose. I will sit with you here until you agree to move, and perhaps by the time we have frozen together you will see sense." Her tone, usually so fluid and melodic, had taken on the hard edge of a woman pushed to mulish stubbornness. Her legs had already become numb, and the chill would be quick to pervade her damp cloak.
The fat mare waiting anxiously finally decided that loyalty was not enough to brave such unfavorable elements, and with a snort of derision, she retreated to the relative shelter of the treeline, leaving the two silhouettes alone on the empty stretch of beach.