For some reason the striped brute had drifted farther south. Oddly enough, he found that he was enjoying the change in temperature. When a freak storm of rain and snow whipped up though, he had to seek shelter. No one wanted to be out in weather like that. A cave entrance showed its face and the charcoal and redwood man made a beeline for it. As he sat in the mouth, watching the storm something else drew his attention. Something from behind him. It wasn't all dark back there as a cavern should be. There was a faint glow emanating from the depths. Interesting. Turning, he began moving deeper into the cavern. Only when the light from outside was blotted out did he truly see where the glow came from. Thousands. Millions. Mushrooms everywhere! Stepping forward, one large paw squished upon a piece of soft moss. It was a pleasant feeling and the brute made an amused exclamation. Hi voice echoed nicely throughout the cavern, sending ears pricking upward. "Hello, cavern. Sparhawk speakink." His own voice echoed back to him and the red man grinned, uttering playfully. "I detect your lies. Not nice to steal a mans name, cavern." Snorting to himself, Sparhawk pulled up a patch of moss and settled down upon it. A nice, squishy cushion to sit on. Since there was no one else around, he began to sing. It was low at first, but, as he became more and more accustomed to the echo, the rough, guttural speech of his homeland ricocheted off of the walls. "Speech"

Poem didn’t leave Abaven very often, only when she was on a mission. Or Rhythm was feeling restless, Poem easily put herself in charge of escorting her grandmother wherever she wished to go. Those trips had been scaled back after the start of the winter chill. Poem felt bad that her grand dam couldn’t go very far so she took it upon herself to gather strange clays and materials for Rhythm’s crafting pleasure.

She found a good spot, and much like the last time she’d brought clay home Poem had a skin and her caracal Allen was ready to help gather. That was the moment the storm suddenly broke loose. Poem hadn’t been expecting it at all, and uncertain where she could even go. The young Destruction panicked and raced into the cavern close by.

Normally she would have scoped the place out long before she set foot but the lightning was striking too close for comfort. It was only after she was in shelter that she realized she wasn’t alone. Her eyes widened when she heard a voice from deeper inside the cave. It was deep and masculine and she couldn’t quite make out the words. For a moment she lingered at the entrance, all too aware of the scent of her heat that lingered around her despite the flowers that Samara had offered.

Then it suddenly sounded like a song from further back and her blue and lavender eyes widened further in surprise. She didn’t take but a couple of steps inward, but her own voice joined in the song. She didn’t know what he sang, but the tune was easy enough that she could add her sweet voice to his bassy tones.

Ears perked hard as the echo turned into a womans voice. Sparhawk stopped singing and frowned, craning his neck to look towards the entrance far behind. Due to the curve in the path, he couldn't see anyone. He couldn't even see the entrance or the illuminating lightning.

Rising from his place, Sparhawk moved back up the incline towards the entrance intent on learning whether he was dealing with a person or a spirit. He left his things back below. This was where he'd be spending the night, afterall.

As he rounded the bend, the silhouette of a lady wolf was illuminated for but a moment as lightning flashed. Again dark ears perked. "Hello, lady," he called out amiably, tail wagging behind him. A cool breeze blew straight into his face, promising a cold night. The rain very well might turn into ice before morning. "Is cold up there. You are wanting to come be warm, yeah? Don't worry." He turned, but swished one big paw in the direction of the large cavern where he had been singing. "Is nice in here. Nice to look for, too." So he was linguistically impaired... he more than made up for it with his enthusiastic good nature

She hummed lightly, and the sound easily travelled through the cavern towards the origin of the song. As his voice quieted Poem awkwardly continued for a moment before quieting as well. She didn’t know why her cheeks burned as the cave was swallowed in silence. With her own dark ears perked blue and lavender gaze caught the slightest silhouette of a huge man. She was frozen for a moment, caught between fight and flight before she heard his greeting.

He boasted a thick accent, but she could understand him well enough. ”Hello, sir.” She returned softly, not missing the obvious good nature of the man before her. She relaxed slightly, knowing that especially now she could take care of herself. She was cautious still, as life had taught her to be, but she didn’t feel like she was in any danger.

The wind blew by her, chill enough to cause her to shiver lightly. She was glad Edgar was not with her, the wind would easily knock him from the skies. Allen was beside her though and the caracal pressed against her legs to share and give his warmth. The stranger was quick to notice, but also offer a warmer place to shelter. He told her not to worry and welcomed her inside with a gentle gesture of his huge paw.

”Yes, it’s certainly winter outside.” She spoke of the weather easily. ”It’s nice of you to offer to share your space.” She commented easily as she moved her icy white paws forward hesitating only slightly. Allen remained close to her, and though he wasn’t much of a fan of strangers she felt more comfortable when he didn’t growl at the mountain of a man. ”I’m Poem, thank you again. Do you live here?” She questioned further as she took the lead further into the caverns, not realizing what he’d meant earlier until she lay blue and lavender gaze on the magical glowing mushrooms.

”Oh, wow.” She whispered softly, stopping slightly before his little camp.

The woman was a pretty thing. Big, like him. Sparhawk liked big women. They were hefty, they weren't breakable and, dammit, he just liked to look at them. He appreciated her coloring for a moment before leading her into the cavern. She complimented the glow and asked if he lived there. A good natured laugh boomed from the man, echoing on the cavern walls. "No, no live here. I'm from north of the north. Snow aaaall the time." His eyes twinkled as he spoke. "Ah, but I need a bit of change. Find this place. Good place to weather the storm, eh?"

"Sparhawk," he offered his name with a tap to his own chest. "You are welcome to staying. Company is good. Is nice." The charcoal and red man sifted around in a rolled up bearskin until he came away with a drinking skein. "If cold, this warm you right up." He blustered a bit, searching for the words. "Ahh.... go easy. Is strong if you don't drink all the time." If she wanted to cut loose, however... drinking the mead would be the way to do it.

"Why a nice lady like you so far from home? You is far from home, right?" She didn't smell like she was from around here. Neither did he. Sparhawk always had the cold smell of snow around him. Well... and the smell of mead. But he was a brewmaster, so why wouldn't he smell like his craft? As the pair sat, Sparhawk began humming again, still enjoying the echoing sound as his song bounced off of the walls. He stopped and shot a glance at the dame. "You have very nice voice, miss. I like a lot. I miss singink with my family." Ah, but he didn't miss his family. Not much, anyway.

Poem was a strong she wolf, she’d been raised to know her own power and trained from a young age to be competent in battle. She didn’t pick up on his lingering stare as he admired her either, but she was young and inexperienced. Mostly her mind wondered where his accent was from, his first language couldn’t have been the common tongue. He assured here neither he or anyone else lived here, but there was a glint in his gaze as he mentioned his snowy home.

The eastern lands she was born to were nearly tropical, they got snow but it wasn’t anything compared to the north. If this wolf was from north of the north… She tried not to think about how much snow and cold he’d dealt with through his life. Poem felt out of sorts in his presence, like her skin prickled or her hair stood on end. She couldn’t begin to forget the state her body was in and how much more careful she needed to be.

She tried to ignore herself and swallowed lightly as her attention fixed on Sparhawk as he introduced himself. The man retrieved a container from what she assumed to be where he intended to sleep. Even through the skin she could smell the alcohol. The young Destruction had never tried to get drunk, she’d been too busy with the tragedies in her life, training, devoting herself to her pack. Poem didn’t often take time to herself, so she hesitated in accepting the offering. She was welcome to remain, and she couldn’t say that she didn’t enjoy his odd company. She never wanted to leave Abaven again, but maybe some outside experiences would do her well.

Her blue and lavender eyes didn’t shift from the skein even as Sparhawk continued talking, he asked why she would be so far from her home. The girl finally decided to take a light swig from his mead, she was chilly and if the drink would ward off the cold… Poem did well to heed his warning too, and only too enough to feel the warmth travel down her neck and settle into her belly. It wasn’t a terrible experience.

”I am a little far from home,” had she not practically explored all of Boreas when Motif went missing she would have been worried about being on her own. She could protect herself though. ”My grandmother is very elderly. She can’t go out as much to gather clay for pottery. I’ve been out searching for rare veins.” Poem told him as she settled back onto her haunches. Her icy blue hips rested comfortably on the cave floor as she wrapped her plush tail around her paws.

His sharp glance was returned to her, and in the warmth of the alcohol her heart jumped a beat. She hid it well, but she couldn’t hide her pale cheeks from flushing to a rose color as he complimented her voice. ”Oh, thank you.” She replied humbly with a bow of her head. ”You have a nice singing voice as well.” Poem offfered back, tipping her blue and lavender gaze to meet his. ”We sound nice together.”

Poem took a drink of the mead that was offered and the big man smiled, knowing the warmth that would flood through her. He couldn't remember his first drink of mead, but he did know that it still warmed him on cold nights. Which, in the north, all nights were cold. It was difficult to get enough honey and fruit that far north too, so mead was a precious commodity. A commodity which he hadn't shared when he was younger. Now that he was a different man, he spread his mead far and wide.

The woman confessed to being a little far from home and that she was on the search for clay for her grandmother. Hunting for claw was interesting. "Your babushka, she makes the pots? I need pots. Biiiig, big pots!" It had been a long while since Sparhawk had made mead. It wasn't the season to craft, but spring would be on their doorstep soon. He could collect honey and fresh fruit and brew a mighty drink. In fact... that was part of the reason that he was meandering in a southerly direction. The red and charcoal man tilted his head slightly. "I help you look for clay while we wait for the storm to stop howling." It would keep them both busy.

Sparhawk noted the girl's reaction when he complimented her. He also smelled the rich scent of her heat, but he was gentleman and wouldn't push or act like a hound. Poem said that they sounded good together and the man grinned. "We do. We should sing together again." Dark ears flicked forward. "You teach me a song from your tongue. I teach you a song from mine, yeah?" He shrugged. "Or we just sing without words. No words is fine too." Taking a drink from the skein, he passed it back to Poem before settling down upon his stomach. Closing his red eyes, the big man began to hum merrily in his deep, baritone voice.

Not much time would pass before Poem started to feel the alcohol within her, She was a little fuzzy and much warmer. She couldn’t quite say she was giddy but she was surprised at how pleasant the experience was. Especially in the cold of the cave. Sparhawk was so joyous it was easy for her to relax into a lulled state. She hadn’t forgotten the challenges facing her, but she found herself caring just a little less.

Sparhawk was almost too much to believe, he was all smiles and good natured laughs. Poem wasn’t sure when the last time she had felt so at ease with the world. When was the last time she laughed? Her life was consumed in sorrow and loss for so long had she forgotten how to be happy? The girl brooded quietly, much darker than the bright man nearby. She did smile as he exclaimed about her ‘babushka’ which she assumed was the same word she used for her Rhythm. It was a sweet sounding name, and Poem quite liked it.

”Do you think there’s clay down here?” She asked softly, head tilting lightly. ”I’m sure we could provide you with what you need.” Poem assured him , if he would help her find the materials she was sure that Rhythm and herself could help him with his big pots.

Thankfully the gentleman didn’t make any reaction to her sudden fluster. She sighed inwardly about her choice of wording, but he didn’t fuss about that either. Sparhawk actually agreed with her as he settled in comfortably. Her dark ears perked forward, he enjoyed her voice so much he wished to continue, to sing some more in the cold darkness. Poem’s inhibitions were muffled lightly and she was much more agreeable to the idea.

Before she could answer with a song he decided for her that without words would be best, and she had to agree. Learning words was difficult, learning a melody was easy. Deciding to take another drink was the challenge. He didn’t pressure her, only offered another sip if that was what she wanted. Tentatively Poem took another sip and settled herself as he did on the ground.

Closing her blue and lavender gave she listened quietly to Sparhawk, swaying slightly to his baritone voice. She found the rhythm and replied with her own sweet voice, its sound full of the emotions that filled her. A sorrowed note fell from her lips as the pair of them sang to create a heartbreaking melody. It was easy for Poem to lose herself in the music, and she felt her tears well up in her lightly closed eyes.

The young woman seemed to brood a bit, her expression one of unhappiness and sadness. It was obvious that there was a weight on her mind. Well, Sparhawk would do what he could to alleviate that weight. For a while, he would try to shoulder her burden for her and give her a break. That was why he left the flagon of mead beside her rather than taking it back for another drink. He was already quite warm and happy.

Poem inquired as to whether or not there was clay in the underground cavern and the redwood man gave a shrug. "Don't know. I suppose we dig and find out, yeah? Could be clay. Could be mucky cave mud." He chuckled, tail flicking back and forth behind him. "Either way, is good exercise." And a good distraction. Clay could come later though. There was no point in digging it up now if they just had to stay here with muddy paws all night. In the meantime... song!

He hummed away, a wordless tune in a baritone so deep that his eyeballs vibrated within his skull. He closed those eyes and just went away with the song, but not before shooting a glance at Poem to see how she was feeling. Seeing that she had begun to sway along with him, the man grinned and continued. The woman soon joined him and the cavern was awash in song. Though his tune had a more peppy note, her own took a turn of sadness and so he altered his tempo until they matched.

After a time of creating sweet melodies, Sparhawk cracked an eye, glancing towards Poem. He could see the tears in her eyes and he couldn't help but frown. Just like before, he stopped his song, the echoes still carrying on after. Turning his head towards the pale woman, he waited for her to stop as well. Once she did, he spoke, not beating around the bush. "Why you so sad, miss Poem?" He gave his head a shake of disapproval. Not at her, but at the world. "Too young. Too pretty to be so sad. You tell Sparhawk, yeah?" His ears were open for her. He would try to alleviate whatever pain she was feeling. It was in his nature. The mans brow was furrowed in gentle concern and he waited for her to speak.

Had she thought harder about it Poem might have felt bad about not matching the man’s upbeat tune. Still, when the tone changed to better meld with the emotional sounds of her voice the tears welled and fell over her pale cheeks. Letting the emotions out was cathartic, in her song and in her tears, but after she felt the song reach its height the cave grew quiet again. Sparhawk fell silent and Poem trailed her song off before blinking open her blue and lavender eyes. She found Sparhawk’s soft ruby gaze on her.

His concern was obvious and genuine, just as real as her sister’s or Corvus as he sought the cause of her sorrow. Dark ears fell to her skull and she felt shame for her emotions. The girl sank into herself as she averted her gaze. Was she being silly for holding onto her sorrow as heavily as she did, or was it natural to feel like this. To feel like happiness would never find her again?

”I thought it was because of how much i miss my mom.” She whispered softly, closing her eyes as she tried to chase away the conflicting feelings and the pain of loss that was still so strong. ”I’m not sure that’s everything though. I can’t put it into words just… how unfair life is.” Frustrated with her inability to articulate she grasped hold of the skin and took another drink, this time an obvious swig instead of her earlier timid sips.

The song soon stopped and Sparhawk continued to look at the woman. She noted his stare and seemed to draw in on herself, but she eventually began to speak. It seemed that her mother had passed. There were other things bothering her too, but she couldn't quite put it into words. The redwood man understood loss. He'd lost his entire family. They weren't dead, but they were lost to him. Or perhaps he was lost to them. Either way, they would never be a part of his life again. The sorrow in Poem raised that natural comforting instinct in the big man. Wordlessly, Sparhawk rose from his place. He crossed the short distance between them. Reaching out with one thick foreleg, he wrapped it about Poem and drew her into his embrace. Yeah... he was a hugger. His voice was still that deep, rumbling bass, but it was softer now that he was so close. A dark purr, almost."Loss is hard thing. But... we cannot let it break us, yeah? Wallowing in sorrow isn't what the dead would want from us. This, I know. We must make the dead proud. Give the memory of them honor." His wording was a little off, but he hoped he got his point across. If Poem wished to pull away, he would allow her to do so, but Sparhawk believed that the woman needed some comfort, and if she did, he would give all that he could until she was full. "Speech"

Poem wasn’t shy, she’d speak to anyone who was friendly towards her, but being so vulnerable in the presence of a near stranger was new for the young Destruction. The girl looked back up to the red marked man as he shifted and found his paws, confusion took over her features as he drew more near to her. Silently he stood over her for a quick moment before she felt one strong arm wrap around her shoulders and she was scooped up into his embrace.

Her mind went fuzzy, a combination of the alcohol taking its effect and the feeling of being so close to him. She was used to the easy affection she shared with her family but the sudden feeling of his warmth and the alluring musk that swirled around her left the young woman feeling light headed and dizzy. The electricity that shot over her skin where they touched nearly made her gasp for breath.

Uncertainty overwhelmed her, but she leaned into his embrace. She felt good, and felt the need of such support. Poem felt as much as she heard the soft rumbling of his voice, she closed her eyes at the pleasant feelings as he chased away her sorrows with his embrace along with his words. They were nothing she hadn’t heard before, but the reminder was what she needed. Shaye wanted her to live her life, not sink into despair. She couldn’t forget that one day she would see her mother again.

She whimpered softly and pressed herself into his dark neck, pushing down the logical part of her that warned about being so close to Sparhawk. There was safety in his arms, comfort, relief. ”I know.” She told him desperately, ”It’s so hard though.” Her own father had descended into darkness and only Samara had been able to lead him out. She opened her eyes in surprise at the sudden realization of the similarities in their scenarios. Here she was seeking comfort from Sparhawk. Rhyme seemed to devote himself to Samara in the face of tragedy, would Sparhawk offer the same to her?

She didn’t know, there were so many answers she didn’t have, but with the warmth of the mead inside her and the feeling of Sparhawk so close… Poem shifted and wrapped her arms around the man in return, he was offering his strength and she would accept it. Doubt seeped through though, was this the right thing? Just because the embrace felt so good was it the right thing? She felt so selfish for dragging the man down with her. ”I’m sorry,” she whispered to him, holding more tightly to him and breathing in his scent as she buried her features into his neck. ”I’m so weak.” She couldn’t let go, she couldn’t refuse his comfort.

At first the grey and white woman tensed under his grasp but soon she gave way, melting into his embrace. He could tell that she needed comfort, but she probably couldn't tell initially. He assumed she was thinking about it before she fully decided to give in. When she did, the woman sank into him, embracing him in turn. Sparhawk smiled endearingly down upon Poem as he tucked her against him.

Though they had just met one another, Sparhawk knew that he was absolutely no danger to the young woman. She didn't know that, but he certainly did. Poem had nothing to fear from the man. In his opinion, he was probably the most trustworthy person that he knew. He hadn't always been that way, but life had changed him just as life changed them all.

Poem whined against his neck, and Sparhawk gave her a squeeze. His paw began to rub her back in a circular motion, giving as much comfort as he could. "Yes, is hard. The most worthwhile things are not so easy." It took work and so one would feel and appreciate things after the effort was put in. Most of the worthwhile things in life, the most meaningful things, were found at the end of a long, hard road.

The fae's next words brought Sparhawks brow furrowing. She thought that she was weak and she apologized for it. Both big legs wrapped around the woman and he gave her a light shake. "Not weak at all. Not even close, Miss Poem." As she remained folded against him, the charcoal and red man put his muzzle between her ears. "Everyone has moments that feel weak, but that does not mean that we are weak. In life bad things happen. Going through the bad things makes the good things much more good, yeah?" The man kissed the top of Poem's head lightly. "Not weak at all. Strong for being able to admit that you are strugglink." She should be proud of the ordeals that she'd gone through. They would help her to grow.

He was so sweet and comforting Poem would have been hard pressed not to feel the trust beginning to form. He was jolly, something that was very much missing in her life and in Abaven. His compassion was not taken for granted, and his empathy with her plight was more than appreciated. She didn’t know how much she needed that closeness, and blind support from this sweet stranger.

Sparhawk squeezed her lightly before he spoke up again, his deep voice rumbling through her thinner frame. She felt his paw rub comfortingly at her back, the motion bringing much more than comfort to the diressed girl. With her stomach all aflutter she bounced from feeling overwhelmed by her deepest sorrows to distracted by more primal desires. She put up much effort to ignore the latter part, but she didn’t want to dwell in her sadness either.

The sudden shake brought her eyes to widen but her mind was also distracted from the feelings warring within. She was able to take a breath and she’d try and take Sparhawk’s word to heart. Even though he didn’t know her, he could assure her that she was not weak. She smiled at his words. The nuzzle he offered between her ears made her pull her tail closer to her body as she struggled to ignore how close she was, how tightly he held her, and how… different he made her feel.

She ignored the stirrings within as he encouraged her, without the bad there would be no good. She had reached some very low points but they would only boost the height of the good times too. Poem just hoped the good times would return.

Blue and lavender eyes fluttered under dark lashes as his lips brushed the top of her head and a shiver raced through her form. Like a cold chill. She tried to play it off as a shrug, ”I just feel like I’m always struggling.” Poem returned softly, feeling the struggle of emotions inside her. They were warring with the warmth of the alcohol now, it was easy to feel the relaxing effects. ”I try to be honest with myself.” Even though she couldn’t always see through her own self-doubt. ”I guess I’m too pessimistic sometimes.”

Hesitantly she nuzzled back into the fur of his neck, scarcely realizing what she was doing.

The woman's reactions weren't lost on him, but he chalked them up to the drink. For most, it was difficult to be affectionate with someone that you'd just met. Not for Sparhawk. He gave what was needed and right now, Poem needed affection. She needed to know that she wasn't alone. He saw her. He listened to her. He would give all that he could to make her smile. She was too pretty to wear a frown. Much too pretty. Sparhawk appreciated women. He loved their looks, both ugly and beautiful. He loved to listen to the cadence in a female voice. He loved that they could bring life into the world as well as end it. Yes... women were his weakness. He'd never met a woman that he didn't appreciate in some way and Poem, he appreciated in a lot of ways. She wasn't afraid to show her emotions to a stranger, though the drink helped a bit. The woman was willing to sing with him and, in the red man's eyes, she was devastatingly beautiful. He didn't mind spending time with her one bit. Poem curled into him, her lovely eyes closing. She spoke again and Sparhawk released a deep rumble of contemplation. "Life is struggle, Miss Poem. It is struggle that makes us stronger. Build tolerance to the negative. After a while, the bad things not so bad." He knew from experience. For a moment, he considered sharing his own struggles with her, but it was still something that he didn't like to speak about. No one in this new world knew of his past; of the bad things that he had done. Sparhawk was the polar opposite of the beast that he had once been. As she spoke again and nuzzled into his neck, Sparhawk adjusted a bit to pull her closer so that they might rest more easily. It would be beneficial if the conversation ran long, which he wouldn't mind. He had deposited them on their sides, gently coaxing Poem to follow his lead as he lay on the spongy, mossy ground. It was quite squishy and comfortable. He still held her within his arms and his muzzle was close to her ears. "Self reflection is good. Keep yourself in check. Is good to question your path from time to time." It didn't seem to him that Poem was doing anything out of the ordinary. "Speech"

Only recently had Poem started to notice the attractiveness of the men around her, though she surrounded herself with her family most of the time. That made Eligos and Dominus that much more desirable, but neither wolf even entered her mind as the massive Sparhawk held tightly to her. The man was obviously handsome, even in the dim light from lightning and the glowing mushrooms. Her heart fluttered a bit in her chest as she thought about that fact, and was reminded again how incredibly close he was…

Another shiver raced down her spine, but this one wasn’t obvious as the first. The corners of her lips pulled back in a sweet smile as he spoke again. Her dark ears swiveled lightly as she enjoyed the sound of her name on his accented voice. She could also feel the truth in his words, and she knew deep in her soul he was right, she wouldn’t get stronger without struggle, and someday she would be strong enough to get through the bad times without such sorrow. He didn’t chastise her for her emotions, but he held her tight as she struggled through them. Sparhawk shifted their bodies subtly, shifting her onto her side even as he still had his arms around her.

She sighed softly and relaxed into his chest as he rumbled lightly at her dark ears, the moss underneath them soft. The shadows of darkness lulled her further and the girl felt herself succumb to relaxation. Her fuzzy mind contemplated his words, question your path. What was her path? Protecting Abaven, being strong and helping her family. She had never had any question that was her path, but was it the one she was supposed to be on?

Poem breathed in Sparhawk’s deep scent and her musings were forgotten. Her belly swirled and her skin prickled with electricity that was so hard to ignore while she was so close to him. Poem wasn’t without her senses though, she knew what she was feeling. She needed to free herself from his grasp, but the longer she lingered there the less she wanted him to let go. ”What’s your path?” She whispered softly as one icy paw pressed gently against the part of his chest where his heart would be.

As Poem seemed to settle more easily into his embrace, Sparhawk reached out, paw grasping for the skin of mead. With one toe hooked through the leather loop, he pulled it back to him and took a draw of the warm, semi-sweet liquid. It was made with fruit and honey, but the sweetness in the honey and fruit broke down over time. It was still a little sweet, but the flavor was more rich and tangy than anything. He extended the skin to Poem, offering a drink courteously before he would place it upon the ground. The woman in his grasp would question him, asking about his own path. Hmm. How much to tell? Perhaps if he told her at least a little bit about himself, his words would hold more weight. Maybe if she knew of him, she would realize that she wasn't weak and that things really weren't so bad. It was worth a shot, though he was loathe to talk about his past. "My path..." he began in his heavily accented tones. "My path is to bring happiness to others. Spread the good." Rather than look down at the woman, Sparhawk placed his muzzle atop her head. Not looking her in the eye would make speaking easier for him. "Once I was... very bad man. Very bad." He had enslaved other wolves. He had murdered. He had traded them for vast sums, breaking up families as though it was nothing. "I make the world dark then. So dark." It had been late, but he eventually saw the error of his ways and had tried to make his family, his slaving partners, see that what they were doing was wrong. Rather than accept his words or accept who he was becoming, they had sold him as a slave instead. While being enslaved, he saw first hand just what he had been doing to others and vowed to spend the rest of his life making up for it. "Now I try to make the world light. I fight to create balance to make up for the darkness." Giving Poem a little squeeze, he continued. "My path is to bring good. To help those that need. Like you, Miss Poem. My path brought me to you." "Speech"

She was relaxing, and letting loose of the troubles that held tightly to her. As her thoughts touched on the wine skin Sparhawk seemed to read those thoughts and took a deep swig. Poem eyed the offered liquor for a moment, debating herself before grasping hold and taking a draw herself. It went down even easier this time and she drank longer and more easily than she had all night. She allowed him to take the skein as she wiped her lip and exhaled softly, really feeling the burn of the alcohol that time. It lit up her belly and amplified her inner feelings. She hoped she hadn’t made a mistake.

Poem leaned into him as he returned to his rumbling tones, she closed her eyes and relaxed further into his arms and let his voice lull her gently. He put his head over hers and began hesitantly, telling her that he wanted to brighten the world. Sparhawk admitted vaguely to a dark past and Poem stifled the urge to stiffen. He didn’t show her any hint that he was that same man, he wanted to make up for what he’d done, to offer wolves like her more light in their life. Her dark lips pulled back in a grin, feeling another rush as he uttered her name with fondness.

What were the chances of them meeting here tonight? They were both passing through and happened upon the cave at the same time. He camped for the night while she sought shelter from the storm. It was as though their meeting was meant to be, now Sparhawk acted as her shelter for the storm that was her emotions. ”I’m glad I found you now, and not then.” Poem whispered lightheartedly into his neck.

By now she was really feeling the mead in her belly, her head was fuzzy and her whole body seemed to buzz lightly. Especially where her form pressed tightly to Sparhawk. ”I did need a smile.” The girl mused lightly as she curled more tightly into his embrace. ”I like singing with you.” No one in Abaven really sang, but finding him in the cave it was easy for her to join in.

When he mentioned that he used to be a very bad man, Sparhawk could feel Poem still within his arms. He couldn't blame her. It was natural to be unsure of someone the openly admitted that they used to be a monster. But that there was the key term. He used to be. The redwood and charcoal man was nothing like he once was and for that, he was incredibly happy.

The woman admitted that she was glad that he had changed and the big man chuckled lightly. "Me too, Miss Poem. Me too." He took another drink from the skin before sitting it down within easy reach of them both. "No shame in who I was, but very many regrets that it took me so long to find out who I should be." His past had shaped him into the man that he was now, so how could he be ashamed of it?

"We can sing much more, if you wish." Sparhawk grinned. He too loved a good song. It was rare to find someone that wanted to sing along. "Or I can sing to you and you can listen. Something from back home?" Ears perked as he waited for her to choose. The acoustics in the cavern were superb and he couldn't wait to use them again.

The warmth of the alcohol, the warmth of his arms around her, the warmth that ebbed deep down in her belly… She ignored it further as she sunk a little deeper and felt the effects of the drink she’d taken. She was light and heavy at the same time, but mostly she felt good. Her heart fluttered with excitement and she felt the inebriation in waves. Her dark ears listened as he told her vaguely abou this past, but even more passionately he invited her to sing with him again. Poem batted her blue and lavender gaze and smiled softly at the thought.

The girl hiccuped softly but returned her icy white paw to the skein and took another confident gulp before answering. ”I want to sing.” She told him, her voice hinting at slurring as she returned his grin. It was easier to focus on his joy than it was to linger in her sorrow. Slowly her world was narrowing for the night, and it was only her and Sparhawk. ”Teach me a song?” She asked him sweetly as she pressed her other pale paw to his cheek as she looked up into the depths of his gaze.