Mystic's words still came heated, raw with anger and sharp. He would swallow hard, flinching as though he had been physically struck. He had not meant for her to feel this way. Had not meant for her to get hurt at all. Not after she had already been so physically torn. He would heave a sigh, lifting his gaze to her back.
"I know..." He would shake his head. "We could stand here all day and night until we turn black and blue trying to express our points of view, Mystic... We just... we're part of two different worlds now." He would give a soft whine.
"I want to be a viking, yes, but I would never hurt you. I would never hurt your family. Gods above Mystic I'd never want anything to happen to you guys... Please... please lets just start over and..." ...and what? Get back to this point again?
