09-21-2009, 01:00 PM
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There was no question, no argument, nothing but that ever tranquil voice that sang him blessings. Again, as they had the first time, she gave her neck and he returned the motion. They were both warriors in their own right, and this was their version of the long-ancient handshake. Tristan had shown him the proper way when he had trained under his guide. Ezekiel had been trained by a trio, and this holy trinity had set the foundation for him. Now it was his responsibility to grow on his own.
Once more they separated, and Ezekiel’s eyes remained steadfast on her face. That raven’s song left her and carried into his soul, words he did not understand, but the meaning held all the same. He knew that he would miss her, for the coyote was still a boy, and he still longed for companionship. He missed all those that had touched his life. Now, though, he had a purpose. If he did not find Talitha he would not consider this a failure, as it had been before. Still, he understood he had to try. That was all he could do. “Thank you,” he said, and dropped his head lower then she had to him. Then he lifted his neck, turned, and walked away from the borders of Dahlia de Mai. [/html]