The first time he had learned of Everlyse's connection to him had been from the mouth of Orra, she had told him of the a female with fur as white as snow, with eyes the color of flames that could seemingly burn you with one look. He had been one year old at the time and of course he had plotted to go an rescue his sister from the clutches of the wicked females and leering males. He wanted to be the knight Orra had told him he was, the one that would rush into the fray and save the only kin he knew of that existed. But things changed, he changed. The death of Orra had swept any and all thoughts on saving anyone and taking for himself. He targeted her, poked at her until she snapped and then he forced her to submit, to prove he had control of her. All the while staring into the eyes much like his own, his sadness smothered by his hate. Not hate for her but for what could have been if Orra had lived. He knows it was not right, knows he should not have turned on her as if she were a game to play; an easy victory. As she had said in Asteraia, why had he not saved her? When he knew all along what she was to him.

He paces mechanically at her borders, still unsure if he should leave and return later when his fresh wounds had mended but even as his mind voices the demand, his feet do not leave the rift in the snow he has created. For try as he might he does not want to leave the mountains, even with his appearance more gruesome than before. The cold does well in numbing his wounds, making the pain linger into what feels like pricks from needles. Though it doesn't matter, the pain is welcomed. It is familiar. It is what his body knows and he has had and dealt far worse than the damage his sister had done before she had been interrupted by her queen. She had meant to kill him, that he is sure of but he would not have let it go that far. He would have defended despite his desire to never harm another hair upon her body. Though he is pleased he does not live with that guilt now, despite the fact both Fjall and Rhae had witnessed the act. As his mind replays the scenes all over again, distracting him for he does not realize that another is closing in.

There are feet that are not his own in the middle of his trail and for a moment this confuses him, as he pauses and brows puzzle at the sight. It is as orange eyes trail from the feet up does he hear a soft voice that both seems to release all his tension and yet create more. Daenerys. He swallows loudly, knowing he can not avoid her now that she is here, not that he would have anyways. His name on her lips is one he enjoys but in the moment he can't quite get the true effect. As orange clashes with brown and their head rise to better position. "Daenerys." He breaths, a little lift to the corner of his lip, but it falls at the questions that come next. He can sense an anger underlying her words though at first he is sure he had imagined it. Did that mean she cared.. for his well being? Did friends reciprocate that? He pauses for a moment thinking if someone had harmed her how he would react. It is sudden, like a volcano erupting from it's top. Barely containing the snarl that threatens to spill from his lips. As he tries to douse that idea hoping such would never happen. So yeah, ok apparently they did and he can only imagine how she feels in this moment. For he would never want to imagine her harmed or in pain, that would only provoke his sleeping beast and he does not think he would feel guilt at damaging any who harmed his friends. For he knew the dark things he could do to those that dared tempt those close to him.

"It is alright, I am fine Daenerys." Hoping to calm her should she be upset. The swelling in his eye and face slightly appeased by the cold as he can make out barely a blurred vision of her from that eye, while the good one watches her closely. "I deserved this, it was repayment to someone I had wronged." He still does not go further, not yet wanting to give away his dirty secrets. For it was possible she would push him away and he is not ready for that. An awkward and low chuckle escapes his lips at the who and he replies softly in return. "My sibling was not pleased at my appearance." Though the circumstances are not the best he cannot stop the slight wave of his tail at seeing her again, as his eyes drift over her as if searching for any changes. It is then he notices all the red that stains her snow and his tongue blurts apologizes. "Forgive me, I do not mean to taint your home." Turning back to look at her as he lowers his ears in sadness. He had not realized the full extent of his bleeding and has made quite a mess at the edge of her home. "I-I-I-i just wanted to see you.." He stumbles over his words. "I can go? Come back when they have healed?" His words seem slightly rushed, doubting himself yet again for coming to her like this. He is imperfect, scarred and rugged in appearance as it was and now he can only imagine how he looks in her eyes. As a slice of pain tears at his heart. Hoping he had not damaged their newly made friendship.

As that ache grows he wants to step to her and ask her forgiveness again, to touch her should she turn away and leave him but he refrains. Standing before her with his head slightly lower, reliving those words Everlyse had so coldly told him. He didn't save anyone, never had he only brought them to death. The truth in those words had shattered him, knowing that Orra had cried out for him only to meet her end was shattering what remnants he has left of that organ that pounds with a fury in his chest. He hopes it has changed he could not live with himself if he had come to harm Daenerys, Fjallraven and any other he cared for. As one eye peeks up at the silver tipped queen, knowing this meeting had not been as the storm. It is giving away his secrets and he isn't sure what will come of that.

Is this the end i feel?

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