The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee.

He had returned. Despite everything, he was back in Moladion, and he had no idea how to feel about it. Time outside had done nothing but harden him, his fiery eyes were usually narrowed and his posture dominant. There had been a couple of stints, leading packs of mercenaries and loners here and there, and he relished in the taste of purpose. Vincent hadn't left to adventure, or to find his way. He had left because he was afraid of the little results of his and Spirit's night together, and what that would mean for him. He had never wanted to raise children, to be that kind of 'family guy.' He would bend for no one. As much as he respected Daenerys, his taste of freedom had given him the intense desire for all-or-nothing.

But he had come back to Spirane anyway, because there was a tug in his heart that he simply could not ignore any longer. Vincent had felt the imprint bond far, far from here, and on nights spent alone under the stars he had craved her company so desperately. She was soft, quiet, diminutive. The brute didn't know why fate had stuck them together, but it had, and despite all of this he loved her still. How could he not love her? She had done everything for him, anything he had asked, and it hadn't been out of fear and it hadn't been forced. Vincent knew that Spirit loved him, too, and there was a pain in his heart for her when he thought of what his leaving might have done.

She was perhaps the only one he considered in all of this, his children were hardly even in the back of his mind- Victor, he had thought, would have been a protege, but had turned out as messed up as some of the wolves he used to work with. And so he had gotten scared, scared of committing, of becoming complacent, and he had been forced to leave. But it was Spirit who would bring him to Spirane's doorstep once more.

Vincent crossed the border, following the familiar trail up to the den that he had shared with his imprint and children. He was as nervous as anything, wondering if she'd hate him or tell him to leave or what. As he approached the den he swallowed, pausing before calling out uncertainly- "Spirit? It's... it's me."

vincent

TWELVE - SPIRANE - NO HEART - SPIRIT'S SOUL