His confession makes my head tilt as I observe him for a moment. Retirement? That's what people do when they quit their job after years of doing it, right? I think that's what I remember reading. My brows rise when I finally get it. Hunting. He must be talking about retiring from hunting. I scowl for a moment in thoughtfulness, my gaze shifting over his handsome features, trying to read him but of course he's very good at hiding his thoughts. I wonder how long he was a hunter and if he enjoyed it. Why did he quit? Did something trigger it or was he just tired fo doing it? The only thing that keeps me from asking if the distant look on his face and the expression of distaste that goes along with it. It's almost like he doesn't want to talk about that part of his life. Perhaps that's why he hesitated before even telling me about retirement. He must not want to associate any part of this conversation with what he is, or used to be. I have to remind myself that he still is a hunter, whether he still actively hunts or not. I don't want to put myself in danger and trust him but at the same time, I find his presence soothing.

I nod in agreement at his statement about needing something to do. I can understand that. I offer a small simper.

"I plan on getting a job soon. Just not sure what I want to do."

I look toward the flames again, thoughtful. I had wanted to work in one of the small cafes in town, serving coffee and hot chocolate and such to the people of Sacrosanct. I think I would be good at it, besides the whole having to talk to people. It might take me a bit to warm up but maybe it'll be good for me. I'd have to learn to be outgoing, right? And I love the sights and smells of such places and it calms me to be in that kind of place. Like here, even upstairs in his living quarters. I find myself humbled by the soothing smells of him cooking.

As he looks toward the fire and then at me, I glance away quickly, not wanting to be caught staring. I like watching his hands as he moves the skillet back and forth, my eyes watching the milk slosh around the skillet, almost mesmerized by the motion. At his question, I shrug lightly and look down, momentarily silent before I let out a sigh and look back up to meet his gaze. Might as well give him some information about myself, right? He's already admitted some truths about himself.

"It's the...fire. I once watched a forest fire burn my village to the ground and we had to rehome ourselves miles away. It was...devastating. But I like fireplaces. I light the one at Raven's house all the time, just from far away."

I bring a hand up to my mouth, noting that I was starting to ramble. My eyes glitter a bit at the held in giggle since I don't know why I suddenly got so talkative. It's not like me at all. I finally bring the hand down once I compose myself, a small blush rising in my cheeks as I look back at the fire, anything but looking at his face.

When he starts talking about eating meat, I blink at him in interest, moving a little closer to him and the skillet involuntarily. I tilt my head, sudden puzzlement on my face.

"Afford? Did they not know how to hunt or scavenge? I never had to pay for the meat I ate."

My eyes widen and I take a step back, ducking my head again, this time wondering if I've said something wrong. What if he now thinks I'm a thief who stole all my food? We never kept up wtih who owned any of the properties we hunted on. We just ate to survive. Now that I have lived in a city and see how people work and pay for their food, I wonder at all the things I was taught while growing up. No one ever said anything about having to pay for the rabbits we killed or the deer meat we scavenged after bigger predators had their fill and moved on. No one said it was wrong. How could I have known?

As he looks down at the skillet, I do so again for lack of anything better to do, my gaze once more mesmerized by the movement of his wrist as the milk dances around the skillet. I find myself smiling wistfully as I whisper.

"I wish I could do that. You make it look so easy."

As he puts his finger in it, my brows rise in surprise, wondering what that's about until he turns to me with a question. I give him a deer in the headlights look for a moment before I realize he expects an answer and I contemplate for a moment.

"Um..really chocolatey please."

I offer a shy smile once more, hoping I'm not asking too much. I just really love the sweet taste. When he brings out the chocolate bars, my eyes widen once more in awe, watching him unwrap them.

"What kind of animal do they come from?"

alexis wilde