Whether or not Archangel meant to, he released tidbits of information about himself that Zawyne latched onto - things about where he had come from. The fact that he had been taught not to feel, that he had been taught not to love, not to hurt, not to cry? It seemed abominable to the sorbet princess. After all, emotions were, essentially, her entire reason to be alive - it was why the gods had created her, and created her kind. They were meant to be a beacon of hope, a symbol of love, a sense of peace in the world. And all of those things - hope, love, peace - they were emotions, they were a sense of being, they were part of one‘s soul. The thought that a father, or you even just an alpha, could or would choose for their child, protégé, or pack member to be devoid of any of those… It seemed so cruel.… And Zawyne would not be quiet about her thoughts on that - she was sad for him. After all, it was only the hope that they may someday return home, the hope for a better life here... that was what kept her going. “But if they insisted that you do not feel, that you do not cry, what then did they say your purpose was? Without hope for a better tomorrow, without dreams of what you may succeed in, without the love of another, what is the point of all of it? What is the point of any of it? How do you keep going each day if you do not feel? What reason do you choose to keep going if there is nothing to give you happiness, if you never feel happiness at all? And you… And now that Vera forced you to feel, how is that affecting you? Are you glad, sad, mad, angry? How was it that we as the Arcus Irae affect you?”
A shy smile slipped upon her lips, and she giggled and looked away from Archangel, suddenly very self-conscious of herself in a way that she never had been before. Her miss matched gaze, one of the sunrise and one darker, of the sunset, stared at her paws, her limbs - did they fit to her? Or was she as awkward as she felt herself to be? But she shook her head and refocused her thoughts, and whispered a simple question… “Do I affect you? Or was it only Vera who was capable of creating emotions within you?” She laughed awkwardly - it was a personal question to ask, and though she had always been bold and forthcoming with her thoughts before, the femme now feared that this would have been spoken too early, had slipped out of turn. Her tongue felt thick and slow in her mouth, and so she closed her lips. But a soft whine pulled through when he abruptly left her, began to steadily circle her from afar, his body trailing at the edge of the clearing. She could see his lips moving, mumbling something, but couldn’t hear the words. Confused, and hurt, she stayed where she was and simply watched him, waiting to see if he would return to her side or leave her. Had she probed too deeply? Had she placed too much upon him? Was she just a burden that he now would fee obligated to bear, a ward he would feel forced to look after?
But he did return, and dramatically threw himself to the ground. Zawyne‘s brows raised in amazement - laying on the ground he was beneath her, when normally he would tower above her, her delicate frame so petite and fragile in comparison to his broken muscles. But he was speaking to her once more, reiterating that he had been taught not to feel - and thus he did not fear the vampires at all. But he did feel regret apparently, regret at not being able to save Vera, and that had transformed into a vow to protect the rest of Vera’s people - the remaining Arcus Irae. Her audettes pinned themselves against her cranium, and she pulled her gaze away from him again to instead peer at the ground. So, there it was. The answer to the question she had desired - why stay? He stayed not because of the rest of them, not because he cared for them, but because they were his only remaining connection to Vera, a way for him to hold onto her memory, a way for him to atone for not being able to save her. At least he had spoken his truth so that she would know now… He would be just like a tempest - not a friend, not family, just a guardian. Whether it was because he was bored, or perhaps felt that he would be able to better protect her if he knew her better, Archangel inquired about her, her and the other rainbows. Once again, he was grouping them together into a single entity - the remnant of what Vera once was. Zawyne shrugged, a pained smile upon her lips.
“We and the tempests are two different stories, but we both originate from the same.” She closed her eyes-if anything, this was what she was good at, telling stories. She had been in training to be the next Lorer, and she would succeed at this. She had not completed her training, and so they were many stories that would be lost forever now from their people, but this one would remain, the first story, the most important of them all. She begins to sway, shifting her weight back and forth, seeing in her mind the story as it fell from her tongue. Her voice was no longer her own, but one softer, that of her ancestors, that of her teacher, that of a time long ago.
“Once upon a time, the creatures of the earth angered the gods with their bickering, their fighting, their wars and bloodshed, and so the mated gods decided to destroy the earth and all of their children that they had once loved. But they were not without mercy. A few were chosen to survive the destructive massacre by their own cunning or strength or wisdom, and the five wolf clans were among them. They had been broken into five different clans prior to the flood, and remained so after, but even the clans could not agree on anything, and so the gods took pity on them and graced them with a special gift. Thus, we, the Arcus Irae were created to be a beacon of hope, a reason to live. And the five clans all merged into one to guard us because of our delicacy and our frailty. They became our Tempests, and that is the story of our creation, the short version at least.” She opened her eyes and smiled at him, sadly, painfully.
“We are here now because one of our Tempests was cursed with the impossible - his soulmate, the one he would be eternally bound to, was none other then the rainbow that he had already bonded to. It twisted something in him, darkened him, sullied him. He went on a rampage and murdered many of the rainbows who defied him, and killed any Tempest who would not join him. Those of us who escaped, ran here, hiding from him, hoping to start a new life, and because we crossed over the portal, we broke down the barrier that had secluded this land for centuries, and woke up a bloodline that had gone into hibernation eons ago - it is from that single bloodline that all of the Blossom Forest Tempests originate from. We stay because we have nowhere else to go. But the Tempests stay because this was their home already. But it seems that here, we bring only pain, suffering, and trouble for others. Perhaps it would be better return to Duma if only to save others the trouble we bring.”
