21st Day Of Summer, 516 AV
The Tower was in ruins and there was nothing Nya could truly do about it. She knew she'd told Abashai about her beautiful home growing up more than once, but this place was not that place. She was ashamed that most of the upper story was ruined as if ravaged by winds that carried stones or something worse in their midst. Had she been here when the storm had happened maybe she could have helped. But something told her it wasn't a normal storm and wasn't something even a Stormwarden should have been out in.
They hadn't talked after the initial coming together. She'd made him up a room - one that hadn't been ruined - and let him get settled in. That had been her way of inviting him to stay. She'd slept as a Forest Cat on the kitchen hearth, stretched out roughly the size of a horse where no horse should have belonged. Luckily she wasn't the first large kelvic that had inhabited these walls and the rooms and even the kitchen itself was built to accommodate such things.
Nya worried. She knew Shai worried as well. They didn't know how to talk to one another. On her part she had no idea how to act around him. He made her nervous in a way that he'd never done before. She'd felt that way in town as well, around strangers and folks she'd known all her life. It was why she'd left Syliras. There had been too many people and it had been too big. Nya sometimes woke screaming when she was more woman than cat. The cat would sooth her and take her out into the forest to feel better. Sometimes the images that caused her to scream were endless faceless guards hurting her. Sometimes they were of the moment when Abashai had willingly broken two of their three bonds. And sometimes she just woke up drenched in sweat, hating someone who was already dead.
The Forest Cat had no idea that what was done to her and to her mate was done in the name of Rhysol. She also had no idea that Rhysol had permanently left his taint on Abashai. She'd not seen him bare skinned since their time in the prison, and certainly not that day she'd been dragged way to be cast out into the Institute cages to be sold to whomever wanted her. Shai had a far more in depth understanding of that. While she was just trying to survive, Rhysol's followers were busy honing Abashai into a new sort of weapon, one they could use without fear of his conditioning failing.
Nya remembered that hard man, the one that would have slit the throat of a child upon command. He'd eased up and gotten better - not softer - on the trip south as they had escaped and fled Ravok. But he hadn't let her in close and they certainly hadn't gotten to know each other once more. They had focused on the child, getting to safety, and surviving.
Now there was time and space. Now she could really look at him and find out for herself what he had become. The woman knew he wasn't the same. Even the cat knew. But she didn't know if what he was now was something she could tolerate. And she hated that once they'd retired to bed she'd wanted to join him, slipping between the pile of warm blankets to curl at his back. She even hated that she wanted even now to taste his lips and slide her hands across his body to feel the solid reality that was him.
Once, they'd had passion and vows. Shai had loved her deeply with his whole being and that was reflected in their bonds, in the sex they'd shared, and even when he'd given her a child that had ultimately become their sacrifice. She wondered, lying awake wearing her cat shape with her green slitted eyes staring unblinking into the fire, if she could even tolerate his solid form covering her more delicate human one. She wondered if she could even stand to feel his body slide into hers and join them together. Once she'd loved that sensation, craved it, and invoked it in him whenever she could. Bonds were good for more than just knowing what your bondmate was feeling. They were plenty good for flooding your bondmate with lust.
But now... she felt dirty, tainted, and thrown away. Her body had serviced countless - many of those in front of him - and they'd called her names that had stuck in her psyche. Her pride had crumbled to nothing and sometimes she thought it had been left there on that cold prison floor where they'd chained her so tightly that her hand could barely pass between her neck and the icy stone floor. Even now Nya couldn't stand to be on her knees because flashbacks would come of countless nameless men covering her, using her, holding her hips still while they knelt between her splayed knees grunting out their pleasure and emptying it into her body.
She rose and washed, something that was necessary after thoughts like she was having. Nya scrubbed until her skin was raw and then finally dressed in loose clothing. She had to get out, to hunt, maybe bring in some meat for the meals. She grabbed her bag of homemade snares, a hand axe, and left barefooted. As an after thought she called out into the early morning air of the silent tower "I'm going hunting!"
The forest cat left post haste in her human form at a light jog. The woods beckoned and called to her to leave the stony confines and all her too deep thoughts.
The Tower was in ruins and there was nothing Nya could truly do about it. She knew she'd told Abashai about her beautiful home growing up more than once, but this place was not that place. She was ashamed that most of the upper story was ruined as if ravaged by winds that carried stones or something worse in their midst. Had she been here when the storm had happened maybe she could have helped. But something told her it wasn't a normal storm and wasn't something even a Stormwarden should have been out in.
They hadn't talked after the initial coming together. She'd made him up a room - one that hadn't been ruined - and let him get settled in. That had been her way of inviting him to stay. She'd slept as a Forest Cat on the kitchen hearth, stretched out roughly the size of a horse where no horse should have belonged. Luckily she wasn't the first large kelvic that had inhabited these walls and the rooms and even the kitchen itself was built to accommodate such things.
Nya worried. She knew Shai worried as well. They didn't know how to talk to one another. On her part she had no idea how to act around him. He made her nervous in a way that he'd never done before. She'd felt that way in town as well, around strangers and folks she'd known all her life. It was why she'd left Syliras. There had been too many people and it had been too big. Nya sometimes woke screaming when she was more woman than cat. The cat would sooth her and take her out into the forest to feel better. Sometimes the images that caused her to scream were endless faceless guards hurting her. Sometimes they were of the moment when Abashai had willingly broken two of their three bonds. And sometimes she just woke up drenched in sweat, hating someone who was already dead.
The Forest Cat had no idea that what was done to her and to her mate was done in the name of Rhysol. She also had no idea that Rhysol had permanently left his taint on Abashai. She'd not seen him bare skinned since their time in the prison, and certainly not that day she'd been dragged way to be cast out into the Institute cages to be sold to whomever wanted her. Shai had a far more in depth understanding of that. While she was just trying to survive, Rhysol's followers were busy honing Abashai into a new sort of weapon, one they could use without fear of his conditioning failing.
Nya remembered that hard man, the one that would have slit the throat of a child upon command. He'd eased up and gotten better - not softer - on the trip south as they had escaped and fled Ravok. But he hadn't let her in close and they certainly hadn't gotten to know each other once more. They had focused on the child, getting to safety, and surviving.
Now there was time and space. Now she could really look at him and find out for herself what he had become. The woman knew he wasn't the same. Even the cat knew. But she didn't know if what he was now was something she could tolerate. And she hated that once they'd retired to bed she'd wanted to join him, slipping between the pile of warm blankets to curl at his back. She even hated that she wanted even now to taste his lips and slide her hands across his body to feel the solid reality that was him.
Once, they'd had passion and vows. Shai had loved her deeply with his whole being and that was reflected in their bonds, in the sex they'd shared, and even when he'd given her a child that had ultimately become their sacrifice. She wondered, lying awake wearing her cat shape with her green slitted eyes staring unblinking into the fire, if she could even tolerate his solid form covering her more delicate human one. She wondered if she could even stand to feel his body slide into hers and join them together. Once she'd loved that sensation, craved it, and invoked it in him whenever she could. Bonds were good for more than just knowing what your bondmate was feeling. They were plenty good for flooding your bondmate with lust.
But now... she felt dirty, tainted, and thrown away. Her body had serviced countless - many of those in front of him - and they'd called her names that had stuck in her psyche. Her pride had crumbled to nothing and sometimes she thought it had been left there on that cold prison floor where they'd chained her so tightly that her hand could barely pass between her neck and the icy stone floor. Even now Nya couldn't stand to be on her knees because flashbacks would come of countless nameless men covering her, using her, holding her hips still while they knelt between her splayed knees grunting out their pleasure and emptying it into her body.
She rose and washed, something that was necessary after thoughts like she was having. Nya scrubbed until her skin was raw and then finally dressed in loose clothing. She had to get out, to hunt, maybe bring in some meat for the meals. She grabbed her bag of homemade snares, a hand axe, and left barefooted. As an after thought she called out into the early morning air of the silent tower "I'm going hunting!"
The forest cat left post haste in her human form at a light jog. The woods beckoned and called to her to leave the stony confines and all her too deep thoughts.