How could he have known that guilt was the silver bullet that would render her useless? Like an arrow through the heart, she felt herself bleed straight out into the night, and breathe through a gaping wound in her chest. She didn’t need much of a push toward that deep and dark edge, and she could so easily fall off and into the abyss of despair. She already considered herself a monster of the worst degree. And this man sold it soo well -- with his peppered hair, his tired expression, and his human frame and all of its human aches and pains. 

[i]“You’re not normal.”[/i]

The words were an accusation.

Her eyes were misted with bloody tears. 

He took a step back, and she mirrored the action, stepping away as well, increasing the distance between them. The shift caused the cloak to fall closed over her small shoulders and completely cover her figure. Still, all that was visible was the small curve of her chin, and her trembling bottom lip as she resisted, to the best of her abilities, the sudden urge to cry. 

The man gathered his things, but not before flinging the poor falcon into the air with all of his strength. Gabriela managed a small, heartbroken cry, but nothing else. Somehow, she managed to contain herself and not reach out, not run out after the small creature as if she could hope to save it. Luckily, she did not give away her ignorance. She stood there, managing her guilt, her sorrow, and her horror.

[i]“Fine. Fine… All your’s. Don’t follow me.” [/i]

He shot her a glare over his shoulder as he pushed off the large stone where he had set up his small set of supplies. She watched him, mute and frozen -- traumatized it seemed -- from the strange interaction. But then her head turned, and the hood fell away as her golden gaze shifted to the distance, the tavern where they had both been just a moment ago. The look on her beautiful face was one of pure distress as she seemed to examine the building in the distance as if she were waiting to hear or see something. 

She looked petrified. 

When she looked back, her face, finally exposed by moonlight -- looked young and lost.

“Fine, I’ll leave.”