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To be honest, Solitude is not as unusual as I had thought. Truth; while with Makenna I was largely on my own as it was, society is no absent presence. I still think of him often, as I did before, and I almost expect his little frame to waltz through the cave door, with an armload of sandwiches, while I stitch the tears in his shirt.

Like a childhood fantasy we lived out together, in a treehouse with no one to tell us what to do, or when to do it. Authority and I have always rubbed in opposite directions, but I'm covered in spikes. So, I've decided to just live out where they won't get in my hair. I know the laws, I'm considered a homeless squatter, who neither pays taxes nor draws wellfare. I'm only listed in one official record, which was the place of my birth. Somewhere, a name Caleb lies with a long multi numbered digit signifying that yes, I do exist in the government's mind. I don't even know what the last name is that is written there. Beside it, Samsara's name.

If they try hard enough, they could find me, though it is easy to slip from out of the public eye. The woman who stayed with me asked to bring me back into that scrutinous gaze, but I refused.
Sure there are benifits...But I also know I will just be getting into a position where conflict will be easily aroused.

Sometimes...

Sometimes though, I do get lonely. Longing for voices I cannot anticipate, for those who say things I do not already know, for someone...
Someone who can reassure me again.

My leg has gotten better, thanks to the ministrations of a young woman who stumbled quite by accident onto my home in the woods. The first time she came was an accident, coming across me while looking after Vitalani. It had been a long time since anyone had come that close without my knowing their presence. But she wore no shoes to scuff at the earth, and no socks to grab the leaves and drag them noisily, no pants to scrape when walking, no dress to flap loudly in the breeze, no shirt to be a beacon of color, and no hat.

No garments at all.

It would be a lie to say I did not look her over. Never had anyone so unashamed stand before me, never someone so easily found my company. There was one woman Catzi, but I have not seen her for a long time. For now there was only Nakshidil.

I was struck. She was gorgeous, feminine and soft. Skin pale but not deathly so, enhanced by the raven of her hair that fell about her like an ebony waterfall, of the lake when it is night, circling and touching and caressing her skin. I have known the feeling of straight hair to do such that, but never her gentle curls. And her eyes!

They were wide open, open and pure. Like the forest, it was like looking up into the deepest canopies to look into her eyes. I have read of people falling into gazes, and never knew it until now.

Her gentility put my beast heart at ease.

First meeting she was inside the cave, cub in arm. Like I had been familiar with her my entire being.
Nakshidil. Infi's cared after. The two really resemble one another, if I could remember correctly. Strange woman wanted armorments. I could not tell why, she did not seem to need them. Perhaps they were for intimidation only. I have not gone to the forge in months, han't made them yet. I will soon, I grow out of these pieces. Need bigger, stronger ones.

When I think of what I could do with them, my hands tighten reflexively, the hunter's clasp around the throat of the beast. I have felled deer with my hands, I have flayed skin and flesh from the bone with these hands. I could take bigger prey with the time. I am strong, at the height of my capabilities, and every day I grow.

Sometimes I wonder if I have grown stronger than him. Samsara. He was always my better in the past.

But...I wonder if Nakshidil would approve. Something tells me she would not. She seems more gentle than even obsidian. She seems more loyal, more true.
I...

I respect her.

It seemed to be an ordinary evening. I returned home before sunset with my kill in arm, preserved the meat, fed Vita, had supper, and turned in. I'd been making improvements to the quartz cave, so the bed really was the most comfortable it's ever been. But...Perhaps it has been too long since my last and only time with another. I felt needy, wanting to be held. I recalled for the first time since the incident when I made love to Makenna, and he used me for a cheap ******** my pauldrons slid from my shoulders, I remembered his hands tracing down my arms. He was always so hot, even the smallest touch made my mind reel. My own scarred fingers traced up my now bare abdomen, the milky skin there. I have the faintest traces of a treasure trail right above the lining of my fauld, and as I drag my fingers up, I remember the flutter I had in my stomach.

My breath is a foreign sigh in the air as the armor falls away, piece by piece, until I am in little more than my shift, and the waterfall of hair I can hardly cut fast enough to keep it at my waist. But as I slip underneath the soft rabbit fur of my blankets, and the warmth hits my skin, I'm not thinking of him anymore.

The one who comes to my dreams is Samsara. I was suprised, to say the least to see him. Last thing I remember of my twin, he almost raped me, and I was filled with rage. All except for the traces of thought because of the blood we shared. He used power, I created it, and that link allowed me to see him. He hurt many people for selfish reasons, I know that, but now...He has been dead to my heart for such a time, I long for him again.

The scene that unfolds is the park, the last time I had seen him. It is nightfall, and I sit in nothing but my teal shift on the swingset. Over the crest of trees and across the bay, I can see the lights of the city like torches, burning still. Their light reaches me here, illuminates the park, but he is a shadow. His skin is like the kiss of dusk, and no light can reveal him but my own.

"A'Hallei..." His whisper is dark and needy against my ear as I swing back and am caught against him. Strong arms slide around my body and hold me close against his chest. I can feel his heartbeat against my back, and within my body, because our pulses are shared. It's erotic, really, knowing I am bound to him in such a way.

His head nuzzles mine to the side and black lips drop to my throat, lapping, biting, claiming. His hair falls like a web about the two of us, mixing with mine, the way the dark of the night mixes with moonlight.
"My brother..." I echo in a moan as one of his hands leaves my torso to dip lower. Even now, I'm delightfully hard, and he knows it. His tender touches leave me shaking.

"How would you like it if I showed you just how much you mean to me, brother?"

We don't need names between us. Names are irrelevant beside one another, far below what we truly are, brothers. I am his, and no matter if I try to run, I will always be his at heart.

But this fantasy is laced with truth. I fight him, call him tainted, corrupted, and that he let others fill him with rage, lust. Luke comes to mind again, his vampire friend. I'm jealous to be sure, but he was only a child when it happened. He gets angry with me, with my stubbornness, and when the strike comes, reddening my cheek, I am off like a bolt, fleeing for the woods.

This time he catches me.

His hands tear off my shift as if it were paper, and his rough taking of what belongs to him causes my voice to lift to the trees, singing in pain and in happiness. I wanted this, I want him, in all his hate and rage and lust and the knowlege that I will always be the only one he truly loves.

The fur of my bed is hot against my body, all along from shoulders to toes, it tickles the inside of my splayed thighs, quaking in ecstasy. I'd never tried this before, touching myself in such a way, but my hand is slick and moving, my back arching, my soul wanton and needy, and Samsara is taking me on the ground in the woods and all I can think about is the FIRE!

Before I know it I am consumed in it, and burned away to nothingness, left a pile of grey ash to be blown away in the wind, and the illusion is broken. I am all alone, in a cave, and I've just made a sticky mess of my best blanket.

Damn it.

I do not know what to write, but I must put something down, some marker of my being here, of my existence. Because sometimes life itself seems surreal to me, like I am just a figment of someone's imagination, traipsing through life without a single purpose or worth. Just the other day I stopped short of harpooning a fish I saw in the creek to peer at the white visage in the water, and wonder, what was I?

I've been prone to existential quanderies from time to time, but it seemed the last time I had actually looked at myself I was a small child. A small, shivering, mute, mindless child. And here I was now, albino, keen, alert, strong, but completely unnatural and somehow still mindless.

I bent and tapped the reflection, watching the white portrait explode before me. What was I?

The question plagued me as I suddenly stripped all my superficial armor away from myself, compelled suddenly to just move, as if movement itself were proof enough. My body was hurled through the forest at high speeds, a white blaze that would have been completely silent had I not been wailing at the top of my lungs. My raving was only ceased when I leapt from a topmost branch of a cedar tree and plummeted, unwilling to stretch out my scarred white limbs to catch myself.

For a moment, it seemed to all stop, the uncertainty, the pain, the wants, and the unending loneliness. All there happened to be was me, and the wind, holding me aloft and plying at the tresses of my hair. The landing came faster than I had anticipated, an explosion of fire and pain to blot out all other notions and thought, clear in its own right.

What was I?

Insane.

But there was time to dwell on that later, for now, there was only darkness.

I am going on a temporary Gaia-hiatus. Please do not take A'Hallei from me, I do not care if he does not grow in my absence, and I will try to return to make a post when I can. Thank you very much.

School and work has just gotten in the way.