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Ovaan was sleeping like a rock. If it weren't for his soft deep breathing -proof that he was asleep- he might have been taken for dead, sprawled on the floor out of sheer exhaustion the way he was. He'd been up all night, using all of his energy with his exhausting flight, vigorous bath, and then finally healing her legs. He'd be out for hours at this rate.

Ovaan twitched in his sleep, his face contorting in something like pain, as though he sensed in his sleep that she was trying to escape, but he remained asleep. The rise and fall of his chest had quickened with his twinge - a reaction to a dream, perhaps?- and his hands had balled into fists, his arms moving closer to him as though he were trying to curl up but was too weak to. His antenna, which had stood on end a moment ago, slowly relaxed again, drooping downward. Though he seemed to be relaxing, his forehead was still creased in stress.

All was silent as Ovaan slept on, Kelala making her get away further and further down the tree as Ovaan slept oblivious to her escape. But her luck wouldn't hold out for much longer. Ovaan gasped in his sleep, arching his back and crying out in pain. He sat, the pain shooting through his body causing him to sob as he hugged his knees to his chest. His legs were burning as though a hundred tiny knives were butchering his flesh. Tears began to stream from his eyes as he pulled the legs of his pants up. There seemed to be nothing wrong with his legs. But he could feel it! Ah, it hurt! It hurt!

"Stop it!" He yelled at himself, shaking with sobs.

And then, as quickly as it had begun, the attack ended, leaving him breathless and frightened, eyes wide but unseeing.

What the heck had just happened?

His legs...he had just healed her legs...Ovaan glanced up at the bed to see if she had suffered a similar attack. He had to do a double-take. She wasn't there. He looked frantically around the room, dread settling in his chest.

She wasn't there. She'd run away.

She was gone.

Ovaan couldn't move. He was paralyzed with horror.

Why had she left him?!

Ovaan wrapped his arms tighter around his knees and sobbed helplessly. She had left him! And he had liked her so much! He'd done so much for her. He didn't deserve this! Why had she done this!

What are you doing bawling like a baby? You want her, go get her!

But I don't know where she is!

Then go FIND her, you fool! Force her to come back. You know you're stronger than she is. You know this forest better than anyone. She can't have gone far!

But I-

Why are you making up all of these excuse? Just go!

I don't want to hurt her!

Are you mad?! She's hurting you! Go get her and make her come back!

I can't do it. She'll hate me.

Then I will!

Ovaan stood shakily, wiping the tears from his eyes and swearing under his breath in his native language over the pain in his legs. They still hurt. He never should have been so nice to her. He should have expected this from her. Worthless brat.

She was going to get it. She was going to wish she'd let him mark her once he was through with her.

Ovaan flew so fast it was more like he was free-falling than actually flying. As he passed over the trees, he surveyed them, looking for something different that would give her path away. The longer he looked the more desperate he became. What if she had already gotten out? What if she was never coming back? He'd never see her again!

What if It had gotten her..?

A shudder of fear coursed down his body. He forced his thoughts to the back of his mind. That was irrational. Of course she was still alive. Silly him.

There! He could see it now, tree branches bent out of the way. All the way out here? Dang, she was fast! He dived into the trees, antenna on end, sensing the air for her. He caught her scent. Or more, her essence.

He appeared out of nowhere right in her path, figuring that the best way to stop her stampeding would be to physically block her way.

It worked. She ran right into him, the force causing him to grunt and then hiss as his legs smarted with pain. He wrapped his arms around her, to keep her there and to balance them both, his wings and antenna flared to help keep them from falling over. He was winded by catching her so suddenly, and couldn't hink of anything to say to her anyways, so he remained silent, but his body language -the way he held her so tightly, the way he stood despite the pain in his legs (HER fault!)- and his glowing crimson eyes easily purveying the message that he was hostile.

Ovaan was expecting a fight, so it threw him off even more when she went limp in his arms and he found himself adjusting his weight to hold her up. His eyes melted into a whirling blue, his antenna still on end in confusion.

Now what? She wasn't going to fight him?

"Don't try that again." He said stiffly. His legs still ached. He was hurt, in pain, winded, angry, and confused. He kept his arms around her, half becuase he was afraid she'd collapse if he let go of her (she suddenly seemed that fragile) and half because he didn't want her to run away from him again. Once had been enough of a scare. His heart was still pounding, adenaline still pumping from the fear of losing her, of being left alone.

Okay, what was this? Still being docile? Ovaan was competely thrown off. He had been expecting to have to hurt her, to be forced to drag her back kicking and screaming, or even unconscious. Anything he might have said to her went flying out the window. This was too bizarre.

Having no other way to vent his aggression and the overwhelming feeling of hopelessness, he took hold of her chin and drew her face close to his. Green eyes caught and held her gaze for a moment as he held her chin, his lips centimeters from hers, then he closed his eyes, as though in pain, and kissed her. It was a desperate, hungry, lonely kiss, born of frustration and helplessness. His arm, wrapped around her, pulled her closer to him. Now that he knew what it was like to be touched and held, and to feel someone else's body against his, he was desperate for it. Maybe if he showed her enough affection, he could convince her to stay. Nothing else seemed to be working. No matter how much he did for her, she still wanted to leave. Yet it was almost like she surrendered a little when he kissed her, like maybe she enjoyed those rare moments of affection and passion just as much as he did.

Ovaan was fully expecting her to smack him, and was once again surprised by her. He gave a short moan of surprise, shifting his weight to accomadate her as she leaned in closer to him, eyes opening in surprise, startled by the passion with which she returned his kiss. For one split second he was horrified, wanting nothing more than to pull away and curse at his own stupidity, but the moment passed and he was able to regain control of himself. Relaxing, he closed his eyes, tilting his head slightly, a natural reaction that drew them closer together. He moved his hand from her chin, wrapping it around her waist to help hold her against him.

He finally could breath no more and pulled away, his heavy breathing causing his chest to rise and fall heavily. "Olte." He whispered in awe, running his hands slowly up her back to rest against her shoulderblades, very aware that the move pushed her chest against his but trying to pretend that he didn't notice and that it wasn't making his pulse speed even faster. "That...was even better than the first time." His voice was a low, almost reverant murmur. For once in his life he found himself thrilled to be completely overwhelmed.