The Raen's icy ultimatum was bold... and dangerous. Those fearless words of hers could have been regarded in any manner of ways. Arrogant. Ignorant. Naive. Pride could have interfered and seen the Xaelan shut her down once more, challenge her, threaten her.... kill her? He was certainly not above it - or at least, his former self wasn't. How curious indeed that he would instead revere with a manner of respect that which bore a strong resemblance to that of a threat against his very person. He, Nhogai Tumet.
"Respect".... the word felt somehow unfitting, misplaced. Though whatever the truth of the matter, it was a feeling not estranged far from the very same... and he was no fool. Such like an unwelcome parasite, that the unfortunate reality that desperation may have in fact corrupted his prideful soul in any degree at all did not go unacknowledged. Perhaps it was through his refutal of a blissful ignorance that he now found himself somehow humbled - even before the delicate form of a harmless Raen; she, nothing more than a vulnerable wild flower, adamantly standing against the gale.
Nhogai's gaze had not lifted from her since. Nor had they betrayed any hint of that same unnatural rage... that stirring sorrow... or even that uncanny sense of loss. Like a turbulent concoction bubbling and frothing away within the cauldron with their every, added input, their meeting had culminated into a strange sense of placidity - her words the final ingredient that had instilled just the right balance for all that had come before it to reach it's unlikely conclusion.
Slowly, and with a fluid-like movement that would do little to disrupt the strange atmosphere that had fallen down upon their shoulders, Nhogai would procure a small blade from his person. Another tool he had recovered, though one unfitting for a man of his stature to be seen as a suitable weapon. Without breathing so much as a word, the dull steel was drawn forth, it's blade soon meeting with the exposed flesh of his left palm; taking but a second to settle it's modest shape neatly into place, the knife length was then swiftly stolen away once more - a tightly clenched fist serving to prevent a whip-like trail of crimson from trailing through the air. The Xaelan was silent in his pain, practically numbed to it's very meaning through experience alone, though it was nonetheless a gesture of penance - a tribute to she who had drawn offence from his actions and sharp tongue.
He would not expect her to understand, though neither would he so grossly underestimate the woman ever again.
"Respect".... the word felt somehow unfitting, misplaced. Though whatever the truth of the matter, it was a feeling not estranged far from the very same... and he was no fool. Such like an unwelcome parasite, that the unfortunate reality that desperation may have in fact corrupted his prideful soul in any degree at all did not go unacknowledged. Perhaps it was through his refutal of a blissful ignorance that he now found himself somehow humbled - even before the delicate form of a harmless Raen; she, nothing more than a vulnerable wild flower, adamantly standing against the gale.
Nhogai's gaze had not lifted from her since. Nor had they betrayed any hint of that same unnatural rage... that stirring sorrow... or even that uncanny sense of loss. Like a turbulent concoction bubbling and frothing away within the cauldron with their every, added input, their meeting had culminated into a strange sense of placidity - her words the final ingredient that had instilled just the right balance for all that had come before it to reach it's unlikely conclusion.
Slowly, and with a fluid-like movement that would do little to disrupt the strange atmosphere that had fallen down upon their shoulders, Nhogai would procure a small blade from his person. Another tool he had recovered, though one unfitting for a man of his stature to be seen as a suitable weapon. Without breathing so much as a word, the dull steel was drawn forth, it's blade soon meeting with the exposed flesh of his left palm; taking but a second to settle it's modest shape neatly into place, the knife length was then swiftly stolen away once more - a tightly clenched fist serving to prevent a whip-like trail of crimson from trailing through the air. The Xaelan was silent in his pain, practically numbed to it's very meaning through experience alone, though it was nonetheless a gesture of penance - a tribute to she who had drawn offence from his actions and sharp tongue.
He would not expect her to understand, though neither would he so grossly underestimate the woman ever again.
[END OF SCENE]
![[Image: ecec20e41f.png]](https://puu.sh/xvMxb/ecec20e41f.png)
Characters: Andre Winter (Hy'ur) / K'nahli Yohko (Miqo'te)
