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Reflections Of the Void

16th Day of Tearful Sky, 1554

Sota was touching Hana. Holding her. He knew every instinct plucked and strained at the strings of her psyche while her body reacted by inaction to his gentle, friendly hug. He knew all too well her past, where the only contact she had made with people was that of violence. Every sinew and cord of muscle was as iron.

He asked, “are you okay?"

His voice, spoken so close, so quietly, washed over Hana. The defences, hard hewn over so many years, began to falter.

“You're all tense," Sota continued. “Maybe this isn't such a good idea." He began to release her.

“No!" Hana winced at the force of her tone, almost as fierce as how she grabbed the sleeves of his haori coat. “I'm simply... I-I'm just not used to..."

They both wavered. The uncertainty was stifling, so they looked into each other's eyes again. There was no ambiguity there. Guarded and nervous as she, and as serious and pensive as he was, this was the truth. The reflection of one another, giving each that aspect they had shared since their first meeting, and every shared experience since.

Hana's arms relaxed to release Sota, yet he pulled her closer and against his body. The shared warmth spread between them, and grew comforting. They each stopped wielding their outermost selves, both Sota's cocksure projection and Hana's shell, and they tried to find another path.

Sota finally let his curiosity flourish. He held her close, his bristling, stubbled cheek to her furred own: the softness played with his imagination of her typically prickly demeanour. Her vulnerabilities were upfront as the white and brown fluff. It almost made him laugh to feel her so cotton-like and gentle, even if there was a lingering hardness to her. The tight, taut tendons and muscle, honed by a lifetime of warfare both practised and practical. She was fierce, and strong, yet fragile and open in this moment. It was Hana underneath the armour she had worn for a decade. A rare blossom hidden within the castle walls, revealed by his gradual siege of trust, care and devotion.

Hana head rested upon against shoulder. She drank in his scent, a mix of daily sweat cleaned with a floral, herbal soap, further masked with the coffee they had recently drank atop the hill hours ago. Deeper within was the aroma of rice wine. It lurked, but was a mere puddle of his sorrows against the rising tide of joy. Yet even this remnant offended Hana, who now sought to alleviate this weight from his spirit. To make him happy. Even against everything she had guarded herself, and for so long, It became easier with every passing moment. To just embrace, to drop the armour, the masks, and just be a man and a woman.

The familiarity and memories of safety in his presence filled her mind. The wit and guile. The bravery in spite of incredible threats. More fuel to stoke the growing flame within her heart. A feeling she had only felt once as a young girl on the cusp of becoming a woman. That arranged marriage between the Akikawa and Araki clans, and to a young inousan man to whom Hana had been betrothed, if happily so. But that Hana was her older self. Part of what was holding her back. Not this new form, this fresh spirit invested into her new family. Not of blood, but soul.

Sota felt her melt in his arms. Even at rest, and even in good company, Hana was always hard as steel, her flexibility only peering through the tiny chinks of her armour as she learned to adapt to society. His heart quickened as he felt every last scrap of this steel within her body be shed. It made him feel rash. Bold, even. Sota raised his hand and gently felt the thicker padding of her neck, to the dewlap she had been developing as she entered full maturity. The luscious softness was even more indulgent.

“Ah." Hana leaned into his touch. Her eyes remained closed as his fingers kneaded the looser skin, then into the firm neck beneath. She 'um'ed and 'ah'ed while Sota added his other hand, caressing with more intensity and dropping her guard deeper and deeper. Suddenly, he pulled her close, and kissed her.

Sota had no cares or worries outside of that second. The once-withered seed of this moment had been planted a long time ago, as his heard ached for Hana's plight. To know she had come from a happy family, and to slowly become the new. A seed of joy he had worked his hardest to nurture. To give her a reason to bloom.

Hana's eyes shot open as his lips pressed against hers. Her whiskers flinched and flexed, stood on edge and brushed against his face, mingling against his newly budding stubble. Her pulse froze, then grew swift, at the sudden shift of intensity. It gave form to panic. Or not a panic, just a similar feeling. She had no point of reference, so she trusted the only part of herself she still could: her instincts. She reacted. Hana grabbed the collar of Sota's haori, pulled him closer and pushed her lips harder into his.

Sota stopped playing. He brushed his hands down to her shoulders, not just to caress her, nor to hold her, but his thumbs tucked into her kimono and brushed the worn, silken fabric back. The purple shroud yielded to the pure white and patches of humble brown hair, and how it revealed the woman beneath. How the flow of the fluff dipped into her collarbone, but also rose and stood proud from the muscles around her neck and shoulders. Sota released the kiss and watched as her fur, once smoothed down from the silk, slowly rose and filled out her form. A transformation between the civil and the primal. The raw. The effortful beauty and grace flowing into the naturally seductive. A side to Hana he had never seen, but it strove and struggled free. Desire flourished.

Hana gasped, but the tiny play of a smile on her lips. She wriggled, not fending Sota's hands away, but her own slipped over her own body. They tucked into her sleeves and slipped free and, with it, the upper half of her dress fell away, leaving a wrapped bandage around her bosom, which she tugged and peeled away the first few layers, until the strap began to flow on its own, then fell.

Sota's breath was caught in his throat as Hana's upper half became fully exposed. The trail of brown fur swirling with the snowy-fields of white all over her body played with and drew his gaze, but nothing could steal his attention away from the gentle rise of her breasts, and the protrusion of her areola and stiffened nipples, pink, puffy and firm.

Hana's breaths quickened and, with it, her chest rose and fell. Deliciously perky and pert, they stood as proud as she did, atop the underlying strength of her pectorals. Like Hana herself, they had a strength that could only fend off the femininity beneath for so long. This warrior of a woman was just that. A woman, unrestrained. Unabashed. Pure.

“You're beautiful," Sota whispered.

Hana blushed. First the pink inners of her ears, then even her cheeks, despite the fur and whiskers. Her smile grew as the coy and shy yielded, as always, to her pride.

“Mmm-hm," she uttered as she nodded. One of Hana's long ears drooped and her eyes lidded as she slowly lifted her folded down kimono. She reached the sash around her waist, and pulled, untying the overlapping loop keeping it attached to her slender waist. Hana's robe dropped in full, exposing the details and art of her body. Her curves and musculature of this warrior woman was clear, even despite the thickness of her fur. The grooves of her abdominal muscles, the thickness of her hips, thighs and calves that flowed and flinched as Hana shuffled her feet from the fallen garment.

Sota's eyes roamed her form, and he couldn't resist the dumb smirk crossing his lips as much as he couldn't hold back his lecherous stare, but he spotted something even more tantalising. Her cloth fundoshi. A rugged and basic form of underwear, but he couldn't help but stare as if it was the most salacious and teasing strip of obscuring cloth, beyond the dreams and ken of even the most lustful of men. The mystery behind it was even more tempting than raw nakedness.

Hana shivered a little. It was nerves rather than even the dimming warmth of Sota's hut. The dauntless courage that burned bright within her thus far but began to sputter, like a candle consumed down to the last scrap of wick and wax. Hana paused at the final step, her breath seizing in her throat, nose twitching and ears folding back as a little fear took hold.

Their closeness let Sota carry on her burden. He moved to peeled his own coat away, only for Hana to clutch her hands over his wrists. She shook her head before taking over, her clawed fingers sliding into his collar and guiding the rough cotton from his shoulders as his own hands slipped over her hip and to the small of her back, then let her pull his linen shirt. He felt himself shudder as the cold night air wreathed his body and both his upper clothes fell to the floor in the growing bundle of cloth.

Hana took a sharp breath as her eyes flowed over his form in the dim candlelight as she still fought the lingering shyness, but it was washed away as his touch comforted as well as it teased. Any embarrassment at taking in his masculine form, from the slim build, yet the toned strength housed within, all the way to the hard fought scars. It all fuelled the ever-expanding warmth in her heart. It spread through her body, fending off the chilly air and caused her breathing to hasten as he held her so intimately, so naturally.

Sota's hand glanced the tip of her short and fluffy tail, which wiggled in a way that was so unlike Hana. It was so exotic against how familiar they were together, even now, as he'd only seen it in passing. Sota continued to hold and explore the feeling of her form against his. “For a woman of such fury... you're pretty cute aren't you? Deep down, I mean."

Hana grew a classic scowl that reversed the budding shyness. She tried to find the words to rebuke the condescension, only for Sota to push against her and sweep a pulling hand behind her thigh. She squeaked in surprise as he dropped her back and held her low to the ground and face to face, held aloft in his arms.

“I see it," Sota continued, pausing to kiss Hana again. “The beautiful woman you were meant to be, yet was stolen from you."

She savoured the kiss, growing ever more used to the feel of his lips on hers. The pressure and the taste of him, but his words made her heart ache. “I still think back on the girl I was... but that doesn't matter. Not now."

“I know. It's just hard not to brag."

Hana blinked and an ear drooped from confusion.

“You make me feel lucky," he continued and slowly lifted her back to her feet. “To have found such a treasure in this fucked up land. I'm truly blessed to have you."

Her heart ached again. She gently pulled her leg from his grasp, though he released her once she started to move, and they stood before each other once more. “Thank you. I don't know if I believe you, but still..."

“Do you trust me?"

Hana knew a trap when she heard it. She pouted and folded her arms across her breasts. “I trust you to engage in your scoundrel tricks, Sota Nakamura, and this is neither the time nor the place for them. I'm trying to be open with you."

“Open, eh?" Sota shrugged, sighed yet grinned, then casually dropped his hakama, exposing his own underwear, complete with a clear, prominent erection. “How's this for open?"

Hana's fading blush forced itself back with The Dragon's own ferocity. Her arms fell away and her lustrous brown eyes flicked rapidly between Sota's face and the imposing sight between his legs. Her lack of experience shone as she was yet again on the back foot, staggered and vulnerable. A vulnerability on which Sota acted.

He put his hands over her hips and pulled them together, belly pressed to belly. She quivered at the touch of his bare skin on her fur, a mix of nerves and expectation, but also she bit her lip as she felt the stiff bulge betwixt his legs and couldn't hold back a little smirk.

This was really happening, Hana realised, after all his teasing and all her deflections to his playful nature. She gulped, but nodded. “I'm... I'm ready," Hana whispered. “I'm yours."

“Good, because I'm starting to get cold, standing here practically naked."

Hana flipped yet again back to indignation. “Would you take this seriousl-"

He did. Sota held her tight and let his kiss interrupt her words. As she melted into the gesture, he guided them over to his bed. There would be no more no jokes, no more outrage, no more separation. The path had gone on for too long, the void between them bridged at last.

Even with his confidence, Sota had to consider his next move. Playing, teasing and joking had just been a way to put her at ease, or at least put her back into her own mind. Her most natural. It was a skill like any other, as he had learned from his first years away from The Ministry in the brothels of Samsara.

Hana was far from the first woman he had been with, and knew he would have to not only lead, but there were genuine stakes in this. He tried to make the world a better place, but the last two years with Hana had showed him that sometimes it was better to focus on just one life. Especially one of whom he had been a part of her downfall. He wanted Hana to feel like the most important woman in the world, not just in this moment, but for every day hereafter.

Sota returned to the now, to the feel of Hana's body against his. Sota helped Hana down onto his bed, and she pulled up the covers as he joined her beneath the blankets. At first, they returned to holding each other as much as warmth. Sota wanted her to be as comfortable as possible, and he would be damned if he ruined this for her. Thanks to her fluff on top of the warmth of their bodies, it was blissfully comfortable beneath blanket, so he scritched behind one of her ears.

Hana squirmed ever-so-slightly and offered a low hum. Her ears flexed and tweaked about as she craned her head back, exposing more of her plush neck. Sota continued by kissing it, from the softest parts of her dewlap, then up to her jaw, then her cheek, then finally her lips. As she grew more familiar, her own kisses became more confident. More skilled and delicious. She let him explore her mouth, as his tongue found its way to her long incisors, then around or under it, until her own tongue pushed against his. Sota's breathing quickened as her pleasured panting intensified.

His fingers, hands, lips... they were Hana's new drug. Half a lifetime starved of affection, romantic or familial, and now she drank deep in the feeling. The safety, the passion, the growing ache between her legs, but most of all in her heart. The instinct that had kept her alive longed to be buried in an ocean of this feeling, to finally let go of her inhibitions. To feel this pleasure.

Her mind slipped, became primal. She needed it. To be mated by Sota. The man that had safeguarded her sanity, had made her learn to feel. This had to be it. She had to have it. Still wordless, her hands grabbed his wild hair and pinned their faces together in one deep, if not bottomless, kiss. She wanted to do something else, something with this lust, but she didn't know how to use it. She just went with what she had just learned.

Sota knew he had her. He let Hana keep busy with her instincts while his hands snaked lower, caressing her body as she fell deeper and deeper into her bliss, enough to drop the last of her guard. His fingers tucked into Hana's fundoshi and began to pull them lower, down past her thighs. They were deliciously sculpted, muscular and decadently thick, yet still plushly soft from the fur and just the subtlest give of healthy fat. As broad, if not broader, than his own.

Hana wriggled, but not out of protest. She kicked with her legs to help remove the last of her smallclothes, but then emboldened by her liberation, she began to give Sota the same treatment as she tugged at his underwear. Her awkward fiddling was still met with her rubbing against him and, as the warmth of the covers and their growing heat made Sota sweat, which matted her fur. Slick and sticky at the same time, the friction grew.

He let Hana slip his fundoshi down, only for it to snag on his erection. The confusion on her face said it all in that split second, then realisation as her ears stood out on end and her eyes wide.

“S-sorry," Hana stammered, again with a flush that penetrated the fur of her cheeks.

“Don't be," Sota whispered, a half-chuckle.

She resumed tugging at his underwear again, sliding it over his member with shaky grip, only for Sota to grab her wrists and force her hands onto his length.

Hana gasped and froze. “W-what are you doing!?"

Sota bit his lip at the feel of her furry hands on his manhood, the tickle and resistance was a unique experience, but he gave her a reassuring wink. “I figured you could use a little more guidance."

Hana still resisted, but then her fingers encircled his girth. She gulped, both shocked and yet... curious. She licked her lips and applied a little pressure.

Sota grunted and couldn't resist bucking his hips against her. It caused causing Hana to yelp and let go of his shaft as it bumped against the lowest part of her stomach. Her eyes shot about, wild and frantic, until Sota ran a finger along her jawline. “Shall we?" he whispered, low and throaty.

She glared at him. The challenge had been given. Hana's fears and timidness in this one situation, of all the things, after all that she had overcome in her years, and Sota still found ways to force her to push back. She wouldn't let this stand.

“Don't make me repeat myself," Hana growled.

“That's what I thought," Sota said, and gave one last nod before adjusting his position, mounting her. He could see her not only force back her usual defences but put on a brave face. Even so, he knew she wasn't ready, despite her words. Not yet, at least. She needed some work.

He once more explored her body. Both familiar and yet so distinct than any woman he had been with before. He committed to memory all the strength that stood out as he felt her arms, or her legs against his given a gentler mask through the plush fur. The way her chest rose and fell as she breathed, but the extra motion of her pectorals followed by the tiny ripple of her pert breasts. His fingers ran from her biceps over to the exquisite white and brown fur of her chest, then teased his digits into the soft mounds before giving them a gentle squeeze.

Hana closed her eyes and immersed herself in her other senses. Beyond just trusting physical contact, it awakened all the parts of herself she had long denied: the hormones she had resisted on her bloody path. Any sense of calm and comfort replaced with... not discomfort, but a welcome agitation mixed with a growth within her own ego. The feeling of being desired, both so alien and antithetical to how she once believed herself to be, yet she leaned into the motion. Her back arched as Sota's fingers continued to caress, from bust to toned stomach, from neck to hips, and the pressure flowing into pleasure.

Sota revelled in her moans and the way she writhed at his attention. An attention she deserved and paid back with superlative bliss. He once worried Hana was beyond such primal responses, but just as she gave in, so did he. With another adjustment and a clasping his hand over one of hers, he pressed his dick between the top of her thighs, and grazed the very edge of the slick and eager folds between her legs, but the softness of her fur paled in comparison to the thickness of her thighs and the power in which was housed.

There was resistance born of surprise as Hana's mind overflowed from the pleasure as it went from strength to strength, but this made her realise how real, how far this would go, or how much it would change, but it only took her a split second to decide. She pushed her hips against him. The need was overwhelming. She needed him inside her.

Sota grew stiffer as Hana spread her legs, her hard calf muscles pressed against his sides. He squirmed a little as his own desires tried to push him into acting harder, or faster, but he refused to relent. He just smiled at her, locking his eyes and hers together, and felt his way in. His rock hard length once more pushed against and then dipped within her.

The sting of being penetrated made her hiss just a little, but Sota immediately paused and their eyes met, intense and focused. Hana's buck teeth bit into her lower lip so hard she almost drew blood, yet the pain was trivial to her past experiences. She just nodded to him, to let him know it was fine.

Never had she experienced such a feeling, such a raw fire within her, evaporating away the sorrow and grief, smothering the aches and pains. To be joined with the man she had let into her heart in such a way made her heart thunder in her chest, even as her legs hooked deeper as it became more and more natural.

Sota eased his way in, pushing his length deeper and deeper into Hana. The tightness, the quivering of her body amplified by her strength. Like breaking down the defences of the woman herself, Sota had to be firm, yet gradual. Patient, but refuse to back down whenever she clenched.

With each pause she relaxed, and Sota pushed a little deeper. They both savoured it, all the warmth, the smoothness, the slickness, the pressure, yet Sota watching Hana's pleasure made it the sweetest of all. The tiny flickers of pain as her virginal womanhood slowly parted and stretched, yet the throes of bliss and the way her moans continued to grow into more shrill gasps. Even the intermittent stings of his entry were nothing compared to the pains she had long endured. If anything it just made her appreciate it even more. His infliction on her, but a welcome one.

Sota could feel it too. Hana peeked with one eye and her smile was broad and unrestrained. Almost comically innocent in the face of the carnal and lewd. It was glorious. Amazing. A world ended as another was created, one of pleasures Hana had never felt before, and she was eager for more. Sota pushed his length to the hilt inside, hip to hip, and both grunted in unison.

This was it. Sota grabbed her arm and shoulder as her legs secured around his back, ankles interlocked. They were almost perfectly spaced to give him just enough room to pull his hips back, but not to pull free. The continued feel of skin and fur, of strength and vulnerability, of him and her working together, as they had for almost two years. As was their destiny, they would see this through as one. So he pushed back in, to join her once more.

It was easier, a little less painful, but he used more force all the same. She not only could take the heavier push, but she hissed through her prominent teeth with that ever-present smile, and listless eye wandering up at the darkness behind Sota. He pulled out, then pushed back in, then out, and he began to gradually flow into a rhythm. Hana splayed her arms on the mattress, adrift on the sea of vibrant new sensations. All the warmth of their bodies, the feeling of her inner muscles both giving in to his strength, yet also teasing a resistance.

Squeezing back as her pulse throbbed in her ears, but there were other things that she could hear. She found the squelching sound funny, so was another noise something akin to a wet slap as he shoved his member inside her. This was on top of their silly gasps, panting and grunting. Each thrust was bolder, firmer, more pleasurable. Hana's gasps grew to ecstatic moans as less and less pain was subdued by greater and greater pleasure, and joy.

Joy for finally shedding the old, embracing the new. Embracing him. Embracing her Sota. It was everything. The world peeled away. Just Hana and Sota and the pleasure. Hana's moans grew even louder, reverberating against the walls of the hut, as the rhythm settled. A pace of constant pleasure.

Sota counted his blessings as he maintained his pace with his thrusts. To have Hana in his hands, which roamed over the fur as he groped and continued to explore. The white fur clear against the low candlelight, even shaded from the covers. He let his digits slide over her body, between the soft and feminine aspects, the hard, yet alluring warrior that was housed within. Even the plush fluff had texture, where small scars were scattered throughout. She was a mosaic. Art. Beautiful.

Hana grew familiar with each thrust within her, but also the feel of Sota's body. Her fears of intimacy left behind as she felt his furless form against hers. The smoothness of his skin and the shared warmth, the tone of his figure. She never wanted to get used to this feeling, as exotic and liberating as it was. The way each thrust sent a spike of pleasure through her whole body. But her mind soon felt the growing pleasure of their mating and washed out any thoughts. Her ears rang, her muscles spasmed, even her closed eyes were interrupted by stars glittering through the black of her vision.

Sota paused as Hana suddenly raised her arms up and held herself against him. She quivered as her legs squeezed his sides and ankles pulled him as deep as he could bury his shaft inside her. Her inner walls clamped down on his length as Hana's rhythmical gasps halted, then gave way to a long, throaty and sustained moan. Her ears flicked and stood on end as she orgasmed. Her face twisted and her eyes popped open, piercing him with the apex of her lust as her warm, gushing juices squirted out of her and over his groin.

Even if he wanted to, Sota couldn't free himself. All the raw, untamed strength of her legs locked him inside her as Sota drank in the look in her eye, or the way her face betrayed just how overwhelmed she was. With no way to pull out, he squirmed against her as she sucked in more air to resume her orgasmic song, only for her climactic shivering and clenching to clench around his shaft. It was his turn to be overwhelmed by Hana's explosive release of power as she rode her in a last few frantic half-thrusts, each a hard slam of hips meeting hips, as a pressure grew in his lower half, begging for his own release. Sota grunted and bucked fruitlessly against her locked legs, but even the tiny movements amplified the feeling.

Sota's groan grew and joined Hana's waning blissful cry, clutching his eyes shut as he let everything go. He fell against her and turned on the bed as he came deep within her, a spray of his own seed to mingle with Hana's own gushing honey, and no longer having to hold himself up, they held each other as if afraid fate itself was trying to wrench them apart.

Staggered panting, bucking and muscular tremors, the drowning of sensation yet also the warm void of this moment. This perfect moment. They held each other as he emptied more and more cum into her, spurt after spurt of pent up desire. Even as everything began to ease, and the chirp of crickets outside intruded as their senses returned, they remained locked as one. The vacant world began to fall back into place as they both remembered the hut around them, the village beyond.

Sota opened his eyes to Hana's own deep, joyful-tear dampened own. Still taking deep, long breaths, they just smiled and stared at each other for a moment. Then another. With no urging, they locked lips and kissed as Hana let her legs grow slack to a more comfortable cuddle, then still needing air, parted, if still close enough to feel each other breathe.

He asked, “you okay?"

“Y-yeah... yes," she whispered. “Thank you."

They touched, nose to nose, then with tiny pecks and licks. Sota ran a hand over her cheek, up the side of her face and along one of her long, soft ears, eliciting a craning of her neck as Hana indulged in the feel oh his fingers. Hana replied by rubbing her legs along his, once more hooking them with her own, but gently. More contact. More of this wonderful new feeling. Everything. It was everything. It gave rise to a word. A golden seed sprouting after having spent over ten years festering in the pit of her hate flourished inside her heart.

“I love you," she said, so faintly it was almost a squeak.

Sota smiled one of his most classic smiles. The one he always wore when they were together, and away from anyone else. He, himself, personified in one expression, with bright eyes and the shine of his teeth as faint cracks of dawns light pierced the straw curtains. “I was going to poke fun, but... yeah, I can't do it." He kissed her dewlap, her cheek, following the path his hand had just taken, put his mouth right up to her ear, and said, gentle as the breeze. “I love everything you are, Hana. Everything."

Hana put all her spent strength back into holding him as tight as she could. Her already wetted eyes trickled with fresher tears as she giggled and she nuzzled her nose against his cheek.

Sota tried to engage his brain. Be witty, even in the face of the afterglow, but as clarity reformed, he realised it wasn't about himself right now. It was about her. It was always about her, ever since that day they ran into each other on that mountain pass. She had bit him. He looked at the tiny scar on his arm from the event. It was funny, in a touching way. She had marked him and made him hers in their first encounter.

Instead of being witty, he led with honesty. “I want this. I want you. I want us together, no matter what comes. Please... tell me you want the same."

Hana hummed quizzically. “Maybe. Oh, well, I'm not sure."

Sota's heart froze, but something seemed off. “Oh?"

She suddenly twisted, putting Sota onto his back as she climbed atop him, smirking down, a mirror of his classic grin. “I need more convincing. And I need more practice." Her eyes glanced down between his legs, her buck-teeth also glimmering as she also licked her lips. “If you're up for it."

“I'm starting to think I've bitten off more than I can chew. Or awakened a demon within you. Give me a minute?"

“Hmm..." Hana purred as she ran her clawed fingers over his chest while her already wet womanhood grinded against his the lowest part of his stomach. “Well, I'm not sure I can... you've always been good at improvising, right?"

Sota chuckled at the parts of him reflected within her. The shared pieces. He drew on the aspects of Hana he had taken on himself, and mustered the strength so rich in Hana's spirit as he pulled her closer and, again, explored her body. Hopefully he could excite her while also recovering enough for another bout, and prayed he had the stamina.

The dawn slowly broke outside, but no sleep would be forthcoming. Not yet, not while their love sparked brighter than the coming sun.

* * *