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[/html]The flames reached ever higher, popping and cracking as the intense heat began to chip away at the wood. The shadows cast by Haven's movement, and the swaying licks of fire that sparked and danced in their enclosure wove a clear path for his clouded thoughts to follow. Slowly his mind transcended the boundaries between the present and the past, as he began to delve further into himself for answers. He remembered her, as painful as it was currently, but it was a time far before this; long before they decided to branch out from the group, and go their separate way. Hell, long before they'd even considered themselves friends. She had been a battle-hardened veteran, but despite all she'd seen and done, she'd managed to hold fast to a soul as pure as freshly fallen Canadian snow. She was beautiful; even the scars that lie hidden under her fur were just another part that made her whole. A soft smile, hidden behind his arm, danced idly across his lips as he remembered placing his lips on the ridges, kissing each one, memorizing where they were, and where they came from.
Then there was the brothers; twins, actually. Sons of a royal legacy. Intelligent, loyal, and steadfast to a fault were words that could describe them both. There were many more, but Locke was not so inclined, nor creative enough, to think of more. Haven reminded him of Gerad; his task to uphold pack law mirrored Gerad's own obligations to his pack, and those he owed allegiance (however false it was) too. Then there was his brother, Renard. On a whole, the younger brother built for intimidation; his powerful stature, and endless strength made for an impressive man. Of course, Renard was no less intelligent, but he often left the politics to his brother, and leader. They made a good team, they did. Often deflecting suspicions of their loyalty through careful deliberation, and flawless execution of their plans. He regretted it now that he never was able to become a close, personal confidant of Renard's, like he was with Gerad. The large wolf, though always welcome in the presence of the company, had an insatiable wanderlust; to leave, learn and grow in turn. So he often left on nothing but a whim, only to return a few months later.
If it was one man he needed now, it was Gerad.
A heavy sigh left his lips as he returned to the small home, and back into Haven's presence. The amber knight spoke, and Locke replied in turn with a slow nod, "And you, Haven." He meant it, even if his eyes did not chose to show it. There was no way, now, that he could not like the other. He'd done so much, in so little time, to rectify the horrible situation Locke had thrust them both into. And Haven, noble Haven, had resolutely stayed through it all; he showed no intention of going back on his sentiments, either. Just that little though was enough to ease a bit of the burden laid over his shoulders.
When Haven sat back and settled down on the floor, Locke sat up a little straighter, and lifted his head from his arms. At Haven's question, his ears were thrown forward briefly before swinging back again as he shook his head. "No, not for a long while." He replied as some life returned to his voice, "Left 'em when the war ended, hoping to find a good place to settle down away from the chaos. Maybe rebuild, y'know?" He said, decidedly dwelling on the happier prospects of his life previous to the accident. "But... that won't be happening now. Not for her, or them anyway..." Locke closed his eyes as they began to burn, but soon opened them again a moment later, looking first to Haven, then the floor below his feet.