"Do you want to talk about it?"

He looked up at the question and watched as the White Wolf stood in the doorway. Both arms were crossed over her chest as she waited on his answer first before making a move. His eyes shifted back to the floor piece he had been staring at earlier. "Yes. But you wouldn't want to listen to it." he answered. "I wouldn't want to bore you."

She had no argument. If there was one thing she couldn't stand was long, obnoxious conversations that had nothing to do with the current situation or dwelled only on the past. This conversation however would've focused on the past, but it would've been completely relevant to them. Or at least to him. She had heard the story hundreds of times from him about the man who 'saved' him from the other corrupted senators. And by 'saved', it just meant the man was the highest bidder on him and he managed to out risk the rest of Begnion. But that didn't make it any easier to have to face the man out on the battlefield. She did her best to protect him from the man, but she could only help physically. That didn't stop the continuous mental streak that had plagued him for years.

Sighing roughly, she stepped into the room and softly kicked the door closed behind her. It was difficult to see him in such a state of weakness but there was little else she could do about it. She shouldn't have let that man get away; she should've ripped his throat out when she had the chance.

"Dwelling on the past isn't going to help," he remarked.

Her ears perked up at the comment before she simply shook it off. "I was just thinking about my former options." she replied; walking over to take a seat on the antique bed. She moved over to the side and dropped herself onto the stiff mattress. But after a long, tedious battle, it was more than welcoming against her sore muscles. She laid down on her back and looked up to notice he hadn't moved from his former position. "You know, you can still talk about it." she spoke; letting her fingertips run over the tip of his wings. Feeling the soft feathers bend to her whim.

"I don't need your sympathy Nailah," he chuckled; glancing back at her. Her short, gray locks were spread out underneath her in tangled curls. The multi-colored fabric that was usually draped around her waist now slid off the side of the bed in waterfall-like folds. The black, sleeveless top that curved over the shape of her breasts was still blood-stained from earlier battles; how she managed to get blood on the dark fabric despite being in Wolf form still confused him. He leaned back and carefully parted aside several strands of her hair; lightly readjusting the silk fabric that she had draped over her right eye.

"I'm not-" she started before pushing the matter aside. She watched as he eventually laid back against the bed space next to her. His long, white-blonde hair seemed to remain in a single, uniformed sheet while her own was more messy and all over the place. She felt his wings flutter restlessly against the bed underneath them; brushing cool air against her heated flesh. She stretched out slightly before rolling over onto her side; watching as he did the same motion, only taking longer so that both wings hung over the edge of the bed. Those crystal-green eyes were always emotional while her own were rather soulless at times; they were complete opposites.

"Not completely," he remarked.

"Rafiel, if you keep reading me..." she started; listening as he only chuckled at her reaction. She rolled her eye before carefully brushing aside some strands of hair from his face. "So about Hetzel...why was he here?"

"I don't know. I can only imagine it's because of the Goddess. Ever since the Begnion Senators thought that it was their duty to take over by means of 'Holy Implement'," The Heron answered; shifting slightly to find a better position. "I mean, Oliver was supposed to have been killed in the first war, at least that's what I heard from Reyson. But he was back now and I can only imagine it was with help from the Senators. Hetzel must've just been checking to make sure Oliver kept up with his end of the deal and when he saw that he was dead, and I was there..."

"Well if he had even tried to lay a finger on you, I would've ripped off his entire arm." Nailah spoke.

"The scary thing is, given the chance, you would not have hesitated to," Rafiel chuckled.

"Since we're already talking, I want to ask you something else" she remarked. "You were given the chance to be with your siblings several times, but you always turned it down. Why? You haven't seen them in ten years, you didn't even know if they were alive or not, and yet you opted to stay with me."

"Because those ten years that I wasn't with them, I was with you. And I'm not going to change that; I'm not going to change us. Don't get me wrong, I love Reyson and Leanne; afterall, we're the last ones of the Heron species...but I love you too."

"So you'll never leave my shadow?"

"As long as you'll permit me to, I'll always be by your side my Queen."

She wasn't one for over-compelled romance, but something about the way he formed words on those pale lips made her adore him. Despite his handicap, and his vulnerability, she loved him the way he was. They made an odd couple after all. Here she was, bloodthirsty Queen of the Deserts with the first Prince of the Heron family. She remembered how those first few months almost seemed awkward between them and then as time passed on, things changed. Ten years went by in seconds and before she knew it, they were both risking their lives against the Goddess and her army of Gold. Well...he was risking his life, she wasn't too worried about getting killed; after all she was Queen of the Wolves, and nothing could stop her.

"I'll protect you till the day I die." she spoke.

"Don't say that," he whispered; running his fingers through her hair once more as he drew her in closer to him. "The day you die, will be the day I die. I can't live without you Nailah."


He slowly closed the space between them and pressed his lips against her own. She moved to tangle her fingers in his hair as she returned to simple, yet gracious motion. The tender gesture lasted for only a few moments before peacefully dissolving away between them.

"My Queen, you must promise me that you will survive this war. You are the brightest light in my life...I couldn't bear to lose you now. I know our future will be a glorious one, if only we can live through this."