He doesn’t know it, but he is healing her. Healing her in a way he might never have expected. To offer comfort is to receive comfort, a foreign concept to many, but so integral to her being. He had unintentionally given her exactly what she had needed, exactly what she had been craving.

In turn, he had gained a most devoted friend and confidant. Even if he had not wanted one.

For a moment, when that tension falls away, when his features relax and his eyes slide shut, a thrill shudders through her. A feeling of satisfaction and pleasure so intense it fairly quivers through her body. For the briefest of moments, she allows herself to melt into him, to give herself over the feel of both giving and receiving succor.

But then he is pulling away, leaving her abruptly adrift in a sea of rapidly fading warmth. Blinking in surprise, her wide blue eyes follow him as he withdraws. Then he offers his name, and she is distracted from the sudden loss. Distracted by the change of subject, by a question she takes a few precious seconds to wrap her head around.

She stares at him for a long moment, before blinking and dropping her gaze as she considers how best to answer him. Finally, she begins. “Well…” Drawing in a breath, she takes a moment to drop her guise. To remove the cloak from his eyes so he can once more see her face. The tears have nearly disappeared, only faint, salty tracks remaining, the small wound now nothing but a smudge of dark red against the blue of her fur. “It’s your eyes. I can change what you see. An illusion I suppose.” She frowns then, considering, before amending, “Except real, in a way. I can show you more.”

As she says the last, she reaches out to do so before abruptly pulling back, faint concern tugging at her features. “May I?”

there is a pulse that echoes of you and I

She is too young yet to have had much (any) experience in the ways of attraction. In the doings between man and woman. She has not pried, nor has she been particularly curious. But this interlude, this particular man, stirs feelings both foreign and thrilling inside her that she cannot help but wish to explore further. And though she stares at him through eyes of youth and innocence, there is more hidden in those depths. An understanding and a longing.

And though it is foreign, unfamiliar, she gives in to the thrill, the shiver that runs along her spine as his dual-toned eyes trace the curves of her budding body. As those eyes heat with an unfathomable fire.

But she has no time to ponder such things.

No, he had given her permission to tug and pull and shape his sight, and the moment the word escapes his lips, she is reaching out, invisible touch melding and moulding, fitting his sight with a new layer. One that takes in nothing but heat signatures, the familiar shapes giving way to the brilliant pulsing red of heartbeats, the rush of blood fading to orange and yellow as it reaches extremities. The cool blues and grays of the rushing water, the rustling leaves of the trees.

But even that she has no time to dwell upon, much less time to explain. Before another word can pass her lips, a new form is inserting itself between her and her new friend. A form both foreign and familiar. Her name upon his lips causes her small, defined head to jerk sharply up, eyes of palest blue widening in alarm. Her gaze jumps, fixing upon the dark shape of the cat, the familiar eyes staring out. Unmistakable. “Dad!” The single word is expelled upon a sharp breath of air, the alarm far too evident in her soft tone.

She sways a bit, resisting the urge to shift, to place herself between her father and Levi. He had made no threats yet, and perhaps he wouldn’t. Perhaps it would be as simple as telling him the fire-wielding stallion is no threat to her. Taking a deep breath, she releases it before continuing, her voice softer, steadier, any surprise smoothed from the dulcet tones. “It’s alright daddy. He… Levi, he’s just a friend. You don’t need to worry. Really.”

Fortunately for her, her blue skin would give away no telltale blush, no outward sign of discomfiture at the slight prevarication.

there is a pulse that echoes of you and I

In one small beat of time, her heart breaks just a little bit, for the loss of the moments she and Levi had shared, for the loss of familiarity and warmth and friendship that had flared so briefly between them. For just a moment, that hard, callous outer shell had opened, had allowed her a glimpse of the man beneath. And she wanted to see more, wanted to know that man as much as she wished to know the man burning with fire that stands before them now. She can feel the heat of his presence despite the feet separating them, despite her father dividing them.

She gazes at Levi for a long moment, silently pleading, her too tender heart upon her sleeve, hoping he will give her another chance. Hoping he will wait for her. For the briefest of moments, she reaches out to him once more, not a physical touch, but the delicate, invisible touch of her sight. A gentle, almost unnoticeable tug that frees him from her alterations and releases his own sight back to him. She sighs then, turning her pale blue gaze back to her father, now a horse like any other but for the vibrant green of his coat.

Perhaps her father is right, perhaps she is too soft, but it is a softness this world needs as much as it needs her father’s calculating machinations.

His sharp words cause her to wince almost imperceptibly. Shifting subtly, she moves forwards, edging around the protective wall Wyrm has made himself, placing herself in a position where she might have easier access to Levi. Her father would never hurt her, but she cannot say the same of Levi. If need be, she would place herself between them. A temporary measure perhaps, but Wyrm is a smart man. Certainly he would see that Levi is no threat to her.

And as much as he might wish to, he cannot protect her heart. It has already been broken once by cruel fate and crueler hands. But this encounter is nothing like the last. She doesn’t say anything in response to his words, no defense or gentle plea. She just stares at him, powder blue eyes wide as her lower lip trembles faintly. And she stands her ground.

His last words surprise her however, causing her to blink. Withdrawing slightly, she peers at him with wary curiosity. She has never been told the story of how her parents met, nor had she ever asked or pried. So it is curious that he should bring it up now. “Really?” she asks, unable to prevent herself. “So, then... you don’t mind?”

there is a pulse that echoes of you and I