It is not in Hurricane’s nature to be bold in his interest. The natural calm that has all but become his hallmark precludes it. But then, when one has lived as long as he has, it is an easy state to achieve. When one recognizes the futility of wasting energy in what are ultimately pointless displays, it’s far easier to forgo them. Besides, he is a patient man.

It is not his norm, but for some inexplicable reason, he finds her stubborn tenacity endearing. So determined to believe him far more than he is. As though being ancient is a magical elixir that somehow makes him more than all the others. Oh, he does not fool himself into believing he and everyone else are the same. But he has his flaws and imperfections, just as everyone does. He is not omniscient or obscenely powerful or even so vastly knowledgeable beyond the wisdom age has garnered.

But he is just a man, so perhaps he is wrong. Even if he does not believe it (one of his many flaws, no doubt).

Instead his lips quirk into the barest hint of a smile, a faint, wry humor crossing his dark eye. “Maybe you will,” he murmurs in response, his low tone colored with a hint of skepticism. And perhaps the doubt in his voice would even spur her to act on it. One day. He says nothing more after that, instead watching her go in silence. His dark eyes trail after her as she slips into the trees, disappearing in much the same way she had arrived.

She had left him with little more than her name, but he doesn’t doubt he will find her again. After all, he is a very patient man.

quiet now, you're gonna wake the beast

hide your soul out of his reach

Hurricane