cakeWhen she spoke he understood the odd words in a way that made him recall the latter days of his childhood; memories came to him that were vague and slow, buried beneath the layers that life had built for him, beneath everything he knew now and everything else he had forgotten. It felt disconnected but yet it made sense. He watched her with burning eyes as she moved, and he smiled in a strange way, watching her as their surroundings fell away, a blur in his peripheral vision. He had no interest in anything else, just her, the voice and the way her lips moved as she spoke. Something in her piqued some sort of interest in him, something he didn't quite understand, something he likely wasn't meant to. Bane accepted these things, because they were written, and he was a mere mortal, subject to the whims of the Book, of Fate and her master.
cakeWhen she spoke again, it was in French. The dark wolf recognized the language but understood none of it. He spoke English and the language he had learned when he had been serving the King. Slowly, carefully, the broad-shouldered wolf took a step forward, then stopped abruptly, as if a wall were in his way, blocking his path to her. The smile was gone and his eyes were piercing in their feverish hue, as intense and questioning as they ever had been. Sober or not, he was the same as ever, this was simply something that came and went when he needed it most, and he did then, while the wound on his side healed, while he sorted everything out that he had so far learned of his destiny. He was the same, she was different. Realizing this, he spoke: "Tell me why you hide your words." His voice was pressing but yet still calm, despite it all. There was a certain edge to it, and something reminded him that if he had been younger, perhaps he wouldn't even have wasted time here with words.
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