“Shawchert, oh!” The voice breathed from the other side of the bridge where Orin stood. She was in a funny stance as though she’d stopped mid step, and she did, not expecting Shawchert to drop out of the sky. Or, at least, a few feet from the look out post, anyway. She relaxed once she realized it was the cream and red form of her friend… friend? She tensed again.

In all the fray they hadn’t seen each other very much lately. After the killing of Tameri Orin had disappeared for a few days to Crimson Dreams – though she had left word of her whereabouts – and ever since they had spent their time on edge and working. Not to mention that Orin had been trying to avoid Shawchert. They had seen each other briefly over the last few weeks, and surely he had seen the hair dying job that Juliet did and her infant dreads that Mars had helped her with, but they hadn’t spent much time just being with each other.

Their wedding had been postponed after all. Despite Orin demanding a quick one, it seemed like plans just kept getting pushed back. Now they didn’t even have a date in mind, and it was like they weren’t even planning for one anymore. Somehow it felt wicked to be planning such a happy event in light of what had happened.

But that wasn’t the only thing holding them back anymore, either. Orin was having second thoughts, and it made it much easier to deal with when she didn’t see Shawchert very much. Now they had run into each other, finally alone. The meeting was inevitable.

“I’ll let you get back to work. I’ve got some pigment to make for Juliet,” she said quickly and began to retreat back the way she had come.

She stopped, hesitated with a breath, and then turned back to Shawchert. Her eyes fell upon his visage, golden hue meeting indigo, and she suddenly thought about how unfair it was that she felt like this. It had been like this since before the murder, and that just gave her a good reason to avoid it all. Now he was here, staring her in the face and being oh so concerned about her. It wasn't fair. Why did he have to be concerned now, but miss so much else?

Not that anything he missed was his fault. Orin protected her secrets like a miser protected his gold. It was just her irrational way of reasoning. Even if she had been that good at hiding it, why hadn't he figured it out already? He barely even pressed her when she didn't want to even look at a book. Why didn't the man ever act more concerned that something was wrong with her? That she had changed?

Her golden eyes were hidden behind lids as they slid closed, and then opened again a moment later as she worked to banish the blame from her mind. It wasn't his fault. She had to remind herself that. Speaking with Mars didn't help any, either, because the Russo blamed Shawchert for everything. Wait, were these her own feelings, or someone else's? She wasn't sure, because now that she was back in Shawchert's presence it sure didn't seem like her feelings toward him had changed.

“I'm... fine.” She said while taking a step back. For being Orin, she sure wasn't saying much today. She knew it, too, and it would give her away if she didn't think of something. “I just feel sad for Sky and Tal, that's all. I'm just trying to keep my mind on Juliet...” She made a motion in the general direction of her cottage, as though she still wanted to retreat, but she didn't.

“H... how about you?”

There was no getting out of this one. He had her cornered, figuratively if not literally, and there was no talking him out of it. No buying more time, no waffling on what she knew she was eventually going to do. Her golden eyes stared at the knots in the boards beneath her feet for a long, painful moment before moving to meet Shawchert’s. She didn’t have any more excuses.

“It’s just… our wedding… It hasn’t happened yet. And now it doesn’t seem like a good time…” Really Orin? ‘Not a good time’? Why didn’t you just say what you were thinking, ‘not a good idea.’ She wasn’t sure if she loved him anymore. Well, she loved him, but enough to devote her life to him? And when Mars came to visit… she always felt so thrilled. And when something bad happened in d’Arte, it was Mars she escaped to. He who had comforted her. Did she love the Russo man instead? She didn’t know. But what she did know was that it was enough to put her relationship with Shawchert in question, and she would not make a vow in front of her pack that she wasn’t completely sure of.

She sidestepped and place a hand on the banister. She should say more but for once Orin found herself short of words.

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.”

It was torture knowing that she was hurting him so terribly, and every second that she stared into his eyes she knew she could make it better if she would just take it back. But somehow, deep within, she found the strength and the courage to tell herself that it was better this way. Better that she made this decision early on, before their charade continued with a vow, and more pups. She would only have wronged him more if she had let it continue on with doubt in her heart. Still, the horror on his face, that might have been somewhat how she looked when she watched her son’s murder. She was relieved when he turned away from her.

She wished he hadn’t begged. She didn’t want to hear his promises of the future that she was now denying, because it still all sounded so sweet and tempting.

Her eyes pinched shut, squeezing moisture between the lids to form little dew droplets on her cheeks.

“This is… how it must be.” Her voice was barely stronger than a breathy whisper, and then the only noise was the hollow sound of her foot-paws on the wooden boards as she fled back to her cottage.