03-14-2008, 01:56 AM
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Ulysses style was to be polite and warm with everyone. In particular, the people who had taken him in and welcomed him as one of their own deserved as much love and affection as he could manage to spare. His time to be alone with Fiacha had been postponed, because he wanted permission from all of her family for what he had planned for her. The very night he had wanted to ask her to be his mate she had fled. He had settled into life in with the family who had spawned his own beloved. She would know where to find him, if she ever wanted to again. He hunted for them, told them stories and tales, but they were hollow actions. He had been told to leave, to go find her, but he was fiercely adamant that she would return, someday. His heart depended on the thought.
A sigh, whispery and hollow, caught his attention and he held back a startled gasp. Seconds afterwards, a voice from his past, from his heart began to sing and the words shone right onto his very soul. His throat closed, and and his eyes watered. He slowly took the bow and quiver off his his back, being careful to not make any noise. He pressed his back against the cool back, trying in some way to draw strength from ancient and stable being. Her voice fell silent, and he wondered if it was just his mind playing tricks with him. But...what if? Oh what if?
"This the powerful pulsing of love in the vein
After the dream of falling and calling your name out
These are the roots of rhythm
And the roots of rhythm remain"
He could not bare to step around the tree trunk. But his heart, it pounded at the proximity of it's other half.