He was acutely aware of her gaze when it was he found himself once again on the same embankment as she. He was not embarrassed nor was he bashful about his arrival. During his journey across the river, he had not been so keenly aware of her watching him cross in the semi perilous manner. Unbeknownst to him the moment had passed him by, and though he was indeed left slightly shaken, he had further endeavors to tend to. She seems satisfied in his intent to follow her lead, and so when she turns and begins at a slow pace to head North, Eros takes it as another cue to fall in step behind her. Only this time his large dark paws bring him forward to fall in step beside her. Better to hear her answer to his question, after all.

With the roar of the river slowly receding behind them, and the constant drum of rain creating a steady rhythm in time with their foot falls, he feels a peculiar waning in his emotions. With the familiar feel of movement comes a semblance of peace, and he is silently grateful for his dark companion and her sudden and impulsive decisions. Before the comfortable silence can return too quickly, she breaks the air with what seems to be raw honesty. Listening intently, he is not aware of the frown on his features as a result of his concentration, though truly his mind is largely intrigued. Countless lifetimes. A sense of it was oddly familiar to him, and this time he nods his head in a display of his gratefulness toward her explanation. He then knew partly why it seemed known to him as she speaks of death. Thoughts once again turn toward his Mother, for she too had known death. My Mother, she was friends with death. She walked with the dead, always. He found himself wondering at the likelihood of the similarities and connections his mind was making. Was there a purpose to it, or was his fragile mind simply grasping toward a concept he could better understand?

Truly, this stranger owed him absolutely nothing, and yet still she was indulging him, even going so far as to inquire about his own mind. While he had been feeling a small sense of peace return to him, the shift of focus once again throws him into new territory and he swallows hard to keep any terror at bay. Her eyes speak to the inquisitiveness of her question to him, the natural demeanor in them encouraging him to continue. He feels compelled by her offering of information, regardless if his own experience may lack luster beside her own. I have lived three, though the second was not my own. I remember them all, though I know of them very little. He gives a thoughtful pause before his next words, but continues none the less. I’m sorry you have so few memories. Memories are all I had for a very long time. He doesn’t hide the pain at the thought that comes through when he speaks, imagining what it could have been like; thinking of what it had been like.

Instead of focusing inward where he felt the beginning of a simmer of fear, he focused on his even steps and on her. He tried to slow his breathing and keep it even, hoping to distract himself with further questions. Would you leave death behind? Nothing but curiosity toned his words, and he coupled his own interest with a side ways glance of his crystalline eyes, barely warmed by the copper gold highlights within. The mild hysteria that could be seen there prior was gone, much the same as the anxiety that was settling inside him, far away from the time being. Their conversation felt as if between two beings that had known each other more than just over the course of a river crossing. Eros felt as if a wolf who hadn’t been trapped in his own head for the last decade, for the very first time he was blissfully unaware of the very first moment that he felt a small sense of who he actually was.