"I am."  Even if she hadn't already spoken of her abilities in front of the other woman, Amuné suspected most of the base knew about her.  So much for keeping to herself.  "And he did, yes."  She heard Mae's words, and frowned.  No, despite her efforts, the fact that she believed he meant well, she didn't really trust Tsitua.  "I've known him for a day.  And I would say that's not really knowing someone."  The young woman's voice turned sharp.  "Would you have me put my faith into every Tom, Dick, or Harry that crosses my path, even if their particular sob story is true?"  Her expression twisted in disgust.  It was a tactic that had been tried before.  One time they'd sent a child--

"If he feels responsible for me, that is /his/ problem, not mine.  I didn't ask for him to step in.  I didn't ask for any of this.  You think I /like/ it?  Knowing what could go wrong?  Knowing what might have been, if things were different?"  Amuné knew she wasn't handling it well, knew that between the stress of being targeted again, of old memories stirred up and Zane's death, she was at her limit.  The emotional turmoil was affecting her control, which then made things worse, but she couldn't get a good hold on it.  The tight, steady pattern was coming undone, tendrils of her power sweeping out at random.  Usually her signature was subdued, a side effect of the tight weave she used, but now the Seer flared bright.  "You think I like being blamed, simply because I knew my mother would die before it happened?  That I like being seen as a tool, a target?  Chased after because my power might be useful?  Do you think for an instant, if I could change the past so I'd been born without it, that I wouldn't leap at the chance?  Sight is less a gift and more a curse."  Amuné spat the words.  Her hands had curled into fists and she was pacing again, trying to keep her breathing steady and let out some of the anger in a harmless way.  "There is no 'safe' for me, not ever.  And it doesn't matter how well-intentioned someone is.  'The road to hell is paved with good intentions'.  Actions have unforeseen results and I can't forget that, not for one instant.  So don't tell me I'm insulting when I have every reason to be wary, and every reason to doubt the outcome."  A ripple ran through the growing tangle of energy surrounding the Seer.  "Shadows lie heavy on the land, and they will grow darker before there is even any hope of dawn.  So /excuse/ me for seeing that we head into darkness."

---

The vampire squeezed his hand tightly, but she didn't look up.  "He is -- was -- one of the sweetest, happiest guys I know," she said sadly, tears leaving dark spots where they soaked into her pants after dripping from her face.  "He had never hurt anyone.  I doubt he ever would, not if there was another way."  By the time Orion returned, her hands were clenched, her jaw set.  Cera was angry, and the expression she turned on him when he spoke her name held echoes of the deadly and uninhibited creature she'd once been.  But it only lasted a moment before she shook her head.  "That we do," she replied, getting to her feet in a single, smooth motion.  "But whatever this Circle of Death is...and as much as I'd like to drain any others dry...that's not who I am anymore.  My place is here, with the others."  Quite suddenly she pulled the ghoul into a hug, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.  "I'll be thinking of you, cutie," she added, though it was a half-hearted flirt at best.  "Don't blame yourself too much.  Whatever's going on, sounds like it's bigger than any of us."

[@TheMinorFall]