A Shiver of Light

He was such a charming creature. The dark woman was quite glad to have his company. It beat being alone. Though Iolaire was no stranger to solitude, there was much on her mind as of late. She'd given up Deathbelle, for one. There was a lot to be sad about, but she refused to do so. Iolaire was a pro when it came to controlling her emotions. Most of the time, anyway. The face thing proved that this wasn't always true.

Bourbon spoke, saying that he needed to clear his head. She could tell that there was more remaining unspoken, but she wouldn't press him. If he wished to speak about it, he would. The longing gaze back in the opposite direction was noted.

Finally, someone wanted to partake in her meal. Everyone always seemed to turn her generosity down. Digging into her pack, she pulled out another large chunk of dried oxen, placing it before the caramel colored dog. "Lucretia passed up my offer of lunch. Why you should deny yourself, I don't understand." The notion irritated her slightly. Bourbon wasn't a slave. No companion was a slave. The irritation was washed away as he questioned her again. "Yes, I made it. Thin strips soaked in herbs and hung up to dry." This was a particularly good blend, she thought.

Silence took over as the pair ate. Iolaire had started before him and she she finished before him. The woman licked any clinging residue from snow dipped paws and then flicked her blue tongue over blackened lips. A question formed in her mind and soon found its way emanating upon accented lyrics. "Do you see yourself as a wolf's pet? As lesser? A servant?" Iolaire did not see things that way. Not at all. In her eyes, Bourbon was on the same level as she. They were equals. Just as she and Bast were equals. Green and gold eyes shone with utter seriousness as she waited for his answer.