Is that really you?

The Warlord fought a smile as Io stuck her tongue at him. Showing energy and fire, instead of her strange listlessness. He would take it, even if it did mean she was peeved at him. “Oh good” he teased as she pulled herself from the water, fur dripping onto the stone floor as she walked away. The Warlord shook out his coat, and followed. Unwilling to let her get too far from him.

He let her have some space however, not following too closely. He leaned against the door as Iolaire lay on a great bearskin rug, sitting in front of a burning fire. Somehow, this felt right. He looked to the bearskin rug, and thought of the bear hunter. He let out a soft breath, not thinking too closely on it, not just yet.

After a moment, he moved forward, and settled down beside his sister. Leaning over, he groomed the dampness from her forehead, and cleaning the remaining smudges of soap from her fur .Disgusting, but he didn’t want it to stiffen in her coat. “Io, forgive me.” he whispered softly, and closed his eyes. Naiche and Resin had come to him simply by thinking upon them. So he thought of Roan. he thought of how they had found im, injured from a bear attack that had taken his sister. He thought of how he had watched Io nurse him to health. Of the way they had grown close. Of watching them sit together on Io’s little cottage deck. He thought of Roan at Io’s side, as his sister looked wrecked and ragged from trying every solution she could think of to get pregnant. Of them telling him they wished to travel for her health. Of looking Roan in the eye, and telling him to protect her. Had he done so? Had he given his life for his sister? Roan, Roan, Roan. he thought with all his might She needs to put you to rest, she needs to drain this wound


"Speech"