you could rattle the stars.
you could do anything,
if only you dared

The essence of fate. She muses briefly, her eyes narrowing at his claim that those ribbons, he wields, are fate. Putting a hand on her hip in a very Vhalla-like fashion, she scowls briefly at Sebastian, her head tilting as she regards him with those piercing eyes of hers. Perhaps she would have laughed if he wasn't so serious, the assassin couldn't imagine that there was such a thing as fate. How absurd! Still, she bites down at that scoff that so threatens to engulf her though she doesn't take any care to hide the disdain that coats her features. She barely holds in the roll of her eyes before she's lifting her shirt, revealing that scarred body to him.

The woman didn't particularly care as to what Sebastian thought of her body, nor did she think he would comment on the multitude of scars. There was a moment of silence after she snidely remarked back at him and then he was lifting that ribbon from her skin. It was an odd sensation, to say the least, she hadn't seen that skin for a while now and she prepared for the pain of blood flow to return to that particular location. Taking a deep breath, the ribbon is removed entirely from her body, gently, and the blood flow surges toward the now healed wound. No pain, just a peculiar feeling. Releasing that breath, she had been holding, she tucks the end of her shirt under her chin as she pokes and prods at the new pink flesh that has formed.

Another scar. Another story.

She barely catches his words as she inspects herself, surprised to see that no caked blood remained beneath the ribbon, perhaps the multitude of showers and yanking on the ribbon had cleaned it enough. Satisfied, she drops her shirt and she's tempted to leave without thanking the vampire just out of spite, yet that feeling of familiarity still tugs at her. She was curious as to how he knew Will; perhaps Sebastian would know of his whereabouts. The assassin almost, almost turns on her heel and walks away when Sebastian turns back to his mare; a clear dismissal. Still, that nagging feeling remained. So, she asks.

Clearly it was the wrong question to ask. Vhalla could see the instant Sebastian's frame tightened. There seemed to be a sorrow that ran bone deep within the vampire, the assassin very nearly bolted from her position behind him. She didn't need to know that badly. Yet, his response is almost immediate and Vhalla halts in her tracks, her hand dropping to her side as she furrows her brow at this... brooding vampire. "We weren't messing â€" he's not with me either," she shrugs simply her voice coming out a bit sharper than she intended.

When he begins playing with the ropes again, she thinks he's done speaking but then his deep baritones are gracing her ears once more. Her own body stiffens at the admittance and she might have felt jealous once, jealous at this relationship that they had share; but he had left her too and she didn't have room in her heart to forgive him. So, she stands in silence as he explains and when he finishes â€" Vhalla parts her lips to say something but no words come out. For once, the assassin is at a loss for words. She should turn around and leave.

Yet, she couldn't bring herself to simply leave, the man was hurting and as much of a bastard Vhalla was she couldn't bring herself to leave this vampire to his own devices. Even though she wouldn't admit it out loud or thank him, he had saved her life. "You have Dorian now, you shouldn't feel... sad," she finishes lamely, a hand raking through her hair in an exasperated manner. "You're hurting," she states simply pointing out the obvious, "I don't know what to say or what to do. He left me too and I know it's not the same but be thankful you have someone to turn to," she says, finishing off a bit stronger, her eyes flashing. She doesn't move forward, but her posture is less aggressive; more approachable.

Vhalla Solarn

To the stars who listen- and the dreams that are answered