i brought a stick to a gunfight and i’m stuck with my tongue tied; Kale. Once Damon had found the German Shepherd, waterlogged and near-dead, lying in the little remaining grass surrounding the castle, he was sure that his familiar would die. It had been a nervous, painstaking few weeks where he had fed the dog and nursed him back to his previous health. If it weren’t for the current famine, he would be perfectly normal, perfectly healthy. It unnerved Damon that his familiar had nearly died, and he’d vowed several times over to not ever let Kale out of his sight again. So far, it had worked, for the most part. Sometimes Kale and Nalani would look after Ithuriel while Damon and Ciara had a bit of alone time. Their alone time never really amounted to much, but who cares? It was time that otherwise, they didn’t spend together. Like everyone else, Damon was steadily losing weight. Gone were the evenly toned, sculpted muscles that most teenagers had to work out for years to attain. In the skinny aftermath of that, there really wasn’t much. Ciara gives most of her rations to little Ithuriel, and as does Damon… whatever was left, or whatever Ithy didn’t eat, he tries to coax Ciara to eat. Most of the time, it doesn’t work, as she is quite a stubborn young woman. It’s not like Damon really minds, in the long run. He admires her determination and her independence, and loves her all the more for it. But wow. They’re like a married couple or something. That concept… it quite honestly frightens Damon; scares him to death, really. Not because he’s scared of the commitment that comes with it, as Ciara is his one and only, but because he’s so young. Barely eighteen, barely an adult (in earth standards; in Shaman, he’s been an adult since thirteen o.O). His mother had never married Tok, her lover, but was it that fact that had torn them apart? No, it wasn’t. Marriage shouldn’t be all that important, but it seems to be quite the deal with Ciara, and so it’s a subject he doesn’t touch very often. Damon snuggles deeper into the warm pillows of their bed, thinking about their life currently. It’s not much different than that of a married couple’s; they sleep in the same bed, are raising a child, and are quite obviously in love, perhaps even soulmates. Living in a castle is a bit of a luxury, though; once the floods have permanently receded, they’ll have to go home and start all over again… if their home is ever inhabitable again. With a sigh, he rubs the sleep from his eyes and wonders where Ciara’s gone. Just a few minutes ago she’d been putting Ithuriel to bed. Ah, there she is, dressed in a way that suggests sleeping is not their only activity of the night. The candle’s flickering light accentuates her frail form, but to Damon she’s never looked more beautiful. She climbs into the bed with him and kisses him passionately while her hands move in an unprintable but extremely sexual way. “I love you, Ciara,” he whispers against her skin, his voice a low moan. “Always have.” He smiles and positions her lips once more to his, kissing her sweetly, gently. “But we must be quiet tonight, for Ithuriel’s sake as well as ours; if a screaming child interrupts… well, that’s just a turn-off.” He kisses her again and wraps his arms around her waist, holding her close. She is all he’s ever really wanted. She is the only one he’s ever loved, ever lusted after, ever kissed like this. Only her, only Ciara. Every little thing he does, he does it for her, out of pure, pure love. DAMON how can the only thing that’s killing me make me feel so alive?