There was something that pulled him toward the dangerous cliffs that dotted Erenyx’s lands, as though it was a flame and he the helpless moth, luring him closer, and forcing him to dangle loosely over the edges as he strolled through the thick blanket of mist. There was a scent in the air, one that spoke of familiarity, and he could not help but wish to investigate out of pure curiosity for what one of his pack mates would be doing out and about in such threatening weather conditions. It was in his best interest to ensure the safety, security and the overall well-being of those that represented his pack alongside him, though little to his knowledge was precisely how important the single individual’s safety was to him, regardless of how minimally he was aware of it. He couldn’t explain what surges of energy coursed through his veins, making his blood boil as though overcome by some unusual trance of nerves, and although he was well known for prodding into topics that did not make any sense to him, this one in particular warned him away. He knew that nothing good would come from pursuing it, and therefore he had no intentions of figuring out what was going on inside of him whenever she was concerned.

Despite what it was that he wanted, however, it seemed as though he had no say in whether or not she was to be concerned in the happenings of his life. Through the thickening fog, consuming the pair as though a whirlwind - a force to be reckoned with - he spied what he assumed to be his companion peering over the cliff’s edges, as though she had absolutely no idea how much danger she was putting herself in. For a moment, just one, there was a flash of worry in his dark gold eyes, though it was gone as quickly as it had appeared as he approached his fellow warrior, Silacea, with quick and purposeful strides. The multicoloured male wove himself in between the she-wolf and the cliff’s edge, the fur of his muscular shoulder blade pressing softly into the base of her chest to ensure that she was no longer pushing her luck via examining the mysterious, yet unmistakably deadly extermination that awaited either of them below, a fate that he wished for neither of them to be confronting any time soon. Once he had fully passed by the she-wolf, the male spun a tight circle, facing Silacea and fixing her with the same eerily blank eyes that she had likely grown accustomed to having crawl beneath her skin. A moment of silence passed between the duo, it seeming as though he had nothing to say in regards to his sudden appearance at the scene or his initiative to get her to step away from the untimely death that was just waiting for her to make a single misstep so that it may come forth to claim her life. However, slowly but surely, the warrior’s lips were parted by a fine slice, his deeply toned vocals drifting through the air that stood between them to reach the female’s ears.

“These cliffs are not your friend, Silacea. Keep your distance. I do not want to see you getting yourself into any form of avoidable trouble.”

He was able to decipher that she was attempting to be humorous, and though a portion of him could be claimed appreciative of her initiative to lighten the sour mood, there remained the same noticeable lacking of a smile upon his face. He did not mean to seem as though he was so cold, so isolated, and so terribly far away, but he could not help himself when one’s life was in danger, especially when it was a life of such significance. A surge of relief flooded throughout his body when she pulled herself away from the cliff’s tempting edges, and it seemed as though her voice alone was enough to force him into a series of action: To make his ears prick forward, his jaw turn toward her, and his body angle itself upon the path that she deemed fitting, because he too began to create space between the overhanging and himself when he detected a soft whimper parting free from her lips.

It was at times such as these that, perhaps, he should have been thankful for his ability to completely tune himself into any slight changes in someone’s demeanour. He noticed the rims of her eyes growing saddened, and it stilled him to the bone as he stared, helplessly, at the lifeform of his dearest warrior collapsing under the weight of her own body, sent to tumble towards her untimely demise despite any such efforts that she could possibly channel. There was no words to describe what occurred inside of him in that moment. Irrationality threw himself forwards, his paws stinging with pain as they awkwardly connected with the terrain that bordered the cliffs, feeling Silacea’s weight collide with his own as he attempted to propel her in the opposite direction. With a few hearty shoves he managed to put some distance between the pair and the death that awaited them, and as soon as he was assured of their safety, he allowed himself to fold his legs beneath him in order to mimic her positioning, prodding her shoulder nearest to him with the tip of his nose in his best attempt at making her aware of his presence, and of the protection that he would offer her in this very moment when her life had nearly been snagged from beneath her.

“Silacea?” He spoke her name quietly into her ears, looking for a sign that she was registering the sound of her own name, and that he had not lost her to the near tragedy. He was uncertain as to what had caused her to collapse in the first place, though at this point in time he knew that he would not be asking, wishing nothing more than for her to regain the ability to stand on her own, and perhaps even make him believe that she’d be able to do so without the need for him to be near her, serving as a shadow of her every move. “Are you okay?” He could hear his heartbeat thudding rapidly in his chest, his breath hitching in his throat at the idea of what could have happened to her had he not been here to save her. It seemed as though not even an experiment, not even the “perfect” wolf, could defend herself from every possible threat that loomed about like some angry storm cloud. Her biggest challenge, her biggest threat, was her own mind and, slowly, he was beginning to understand that. She was not without her faults, nobody was, but at the very least he would be able to do his best to protect her when she needed it.

As long as he was near she would not die, and she would meet no harm.

The pressure of her head against his chest made him slightly uncomfortable, sharing such closeness with another being foreign to the male, though nevertheless he refrained from pulling away. She was in shock, this undoubtable, and thus he would offer to her any form of security that he could be of at this point in time. His tone remained fluent, that of a lowly whisper, as he disinclined his jaw to speak softly into the she-wolf’s ears as she repositioned her head on top of his paws. “Because your safety means more to me than my own.” Of course, it was true. He would never dare allow him to grow selfish through putting his life before that of his pack-mates. If he was able to intervene, in which case he was thankful that he was, then that was precisely what he would do in the hopes that he could spare a life that was not yet meant to be claimed. There was a part of him that argued diligently, ringing loudly in his ears as he attempted to reassure himself that there was nothing more to it than that. Every few moments it felt as though his heart was beating faster than normal, at a rate that did not make sense to him. He was new to the ordeal of “feelings”, and thus he was unable to label the oddity of the situation as precisely that. Certainly there was a reasonable explanation behind it all, but for the time being there was nothing more important than ensuring her comfort.

The sound of her voice made his multicoloured ears prick forward, his facial expression unchanging as he pondered her question. “I do not have an answer for you.” It was a terrible burden for the warrior to withstand; he wanted to help her in her time of need, and he was not able to fulfill his longing. He knew that their pasts did not interconnect in any way, and such immediately eliminated the arising solution that they could have ever crossed paths prior. Perhaps, his presence had provided a trigger for her memory? Perhaps, did he resemble someone from her history and such was able to familiarize her with what was once forgotten or pushed away? There was an unlimited amount of answers that he could offer to her, though sadly he could not provide an efficient amount of proof for any of them. “However, it is known with certainty that I hate to see you under such stress. We mustn’t allow your history to consume you; I would blame myself for an eternity should these events repeat themselves when I am not here to save you.” He didn’t know what he would possibly do if she lost her life and he had not been there. Although it would not be his fault, he would undoubtedly find a way to place the blame upon himself. It seemed so unnatural, so unlikely, that she would suddenly no longer be a part of his life. Such thoughts, however, proved as a struggle on their own to endure. It was not something that he wished to willingly imagine, nor force himself to contemplate, and so he settled into the idea of remaining firm upon the present when she was here, well and alive, and at his side.

OOC: This thread took place before his promotion, so he will still be referred to as a Warrior!

“Important?” Just because he had finished her sentence did not mean that he agreed with what it was that she was saying. Even as the she-wolf lie with her head resting on his paws, glancing at who knows what, he was unable to make his gaze flicker anywhere else. They pierced down to the warrior’s very soul, wanting to crack her apart into a bajillion of readable and decipherable pieces. He wanted to understand her, completely and doubtlessly. He wanted to know what made her smile, and what - even when all was right in the world - knocked her down and made her want to give up. He wanted to know what frightened her so that he could make such living, breathing terrors never bother her again. And he wanted to know about her dreams, her goals and her ambitions, so that he could help her reach them and stand at her side as they were individually accomplished. They were rather unusual details, some of them perhaps useless, but he did not care. Never before had his mind sought, so fiercely and with such initiative, to understand someone. He had never been given a reason to care beyond that of near nihility. Up until this point, he had never expected that to change.

He was consciously aware of Silacea sliding her body closer to his, diminishing with the distance that remained sprawled between them so horribly slow. Unnerved by the anticipation, he mimicked the motioning of her body and closed off the space between them completely. His actions were not to be mistaken for affection. He would not allow himself to think like that. Surely, he did care for her deeply, but it was all so new to him that the very idea of it made his breath hitch. She deserved better than him; she deserved more than what he would ever be able to give to her. She deserved someone that would happily display their affections for her to the world. She deserved someone that would not care who was in sight, or what it was that they could possibly think about it, because their world revolved solely around her. Maybe there was hope for him. Maybe one day he would have it within himself to break down his barriers and find the part of himself that had always been so shy and unneeded to surface. She didn’t deserve the wait. Someone out there would be able to provide for her just like he ever could, but the only difference is that they would be able to do it right now.

“I am not more important than you are, Silacea. Do not degrade yourself.” His voice was hollow, pitchless, yet she would be able to know with certainty that he meant all of it. However, there remained something inside of her eyes that piqued his interest. It seemed like, to an extent, she herself was also hollow. She was battling with her own mentality, undoubtedly driving herself to the point of insanity, and he wished to know why. But that was the problem with him, wasn’t it? Analysis always came first. He could sneak behind every mask, into the corners and the crannies that nobody wanted to reveal to the world, and he was unable to hold himself back from prodding. Understanding was something that was so important to him. He would never be able to explain it. Maybe he would never be able to quit being so cold and so terribly isolated. His exterior was unsettling, wholesomely alone, and yet he did not seem to mind. Did she take comfort in pressing herself into the fur of a machine? Did she care that he may never be able to react to her touches and her signs of adoration like that of the mate that she might have one day pictured herself with? He would not be able to stop her from leaving, or from making these decisions. He wanted her to be happy. What if he could not make her happy?

“What are you thinking about?” The question was so direct, so open. His ears slightly shifted towards her, lowering his head, the fur underneath of his jaw pressing against the top of her head for a moment before he lifted it once again. He watched her from his minor elevation, eyes of dark gold colouration unmoving. He did not want her to have to face the hardship that existed in the places that he could not heal. He wanted her to talk about all of it; to be forward with him above anything else. She could trust him, but it was needless to say that she wanted to. But he would always be there for her. Maybe not in the forms that she would like. But there nonetheless.

Her words had been unexpected. In all of his years spent building walls from their former nothingness, they had never been meant to endure sentimentality. Now that she had said it - truly informed him of her feelings - he found that it seemed somewhat foolish that he had been so oblivious prior. The way that she so willingly pressed herself closer to him, eager to be in his company, and to feel the heartbeat that resided deep within his chest, as though needing a reassurance that one existed beneath the mechanics of his body. . . it had all led up to these feelings that she had found herself possessing. A question was in need of his answer. Although she had not directly requested that he speak on the behalf of whether or not he reciprocated her feelings, he knew enough of the classic “lover” customs to understand that it’d be rude of him to remain speechless. Regardless, he could not find the words. Eventually the silence swallowed the pair whole, undoubtedly drowning his female counterpart in the worry that he would never bring himself to reply.

He could only assume how difficult it must have been for her to address him about it so forwardly. There was no way for her to know, to truly know, that someone like him possessed the capability to love. He had always been so cold towards her, focused on nothing more than analysis. There was an air to the male that spoke of strict isolation, even when he was in company and naturally meant to be anything but alone. To say the least, he was independent. He did not require the presence of others to function properly. Perhaps, he was better suited to the ways of a Rogue? But, then again, what would Silacea possibly think if he disappeared into the mountains the night of her confession? Despite what of him was more fitted to the lifestyle in question, he knew that he could never dream of leaving Erenyx behind. It was strange to wonder why on Earth he had ever thought to offer his loyalties to Alpha Steele. He was no stranger to the ways of his King. Steele was built for combat; built to draw blood and to kill without mercy. Although Irrationality held it within himself to be that kind of a wolf. . . he simply was not, and he would never be. However, it wasn’t hard for somebody to convince themselves otherwise when he was the topic. He was capable of murder when it came down to it - he would be capable of doing it with a blank look on his face, utterly void of passion, void of the life that he was claiming.

He would kill for her.

And that, alone, sufficed as his answer. Perhaps he wasn’t in love. Perhaps he would never be in love. He was, with lack of a better term, complicated. But he wasn’t so unfeeling as to be rendered useless when it came to admitting that he cared. He did care - he cared about Silacea. If that wasn’t enough for now, then there was no hope for him. “I must say that this news is unexpected.” He paused briefly, his expression neutral. It seemed as though that was all that he had to say for himself. Purposefully, he allowed the silence to linger simplistically so that he could observe how she handled it. “However, that is not to say that it is unwelcome.” He pressed the base of his multicoloured muzzle into the crook of the female’s neck. The gesture was meant as a semblance of his affection, but one could not deny that the lack of emotion upon his face did its part to slightly break the moment. This was all so very new to him. He didn’t understand how to behave when his feelings were permitted to intoxicate the machine that he had come to be. With time it’d surely become easier, but who knew who would ever possibly hone such a patience? “I care about you, Silacea. I do not want you to have to question that. But it’ll take time. As for you memories. . . I do not want to trigger what it is that causes you such stress. If it is I that awakens your reminiscences, than in turn it is I that causes you to collapse.” At that note, Irrationality pulled himself away, suddenly hesitant. He did not want to be behind what it was that pained her. He was making her risk her life without even trying. His presence could not be anything other than harmful to her safety.

She stood to her paws, fixating him with a series of questions that almost had him wishing to evaporate into thin air, left to depart into the peace of quiet of mother nature for a while. It was not that he did not enjoy her company; it had been, in fact, quite pleasant to sit with her as though they were capable of leaving behind this bitter world in hopes of something better. Simply put, he was not meant to endure such perplexing inquiries that left no room for silence. He would never think to so rudely counter whatever it was that Silacea sought from him. He would answer what was in need of answering, be it that he was able - but in this particular situation, he was not certain that he was. Cold air left his lungs in a rush of movement as he, too, stood from his seat. The multicoloured Delta’s handsome face was coloured a riveting gold in the light, the blackness of his many markings given eerie recognition as he cast a thoughtless stare upon the female in wait. Was it that she was rushed, perhaps? Was she not patient enough to waste her time with someone that could no quicken their paces and be immediately deemed satisfying? He was thoroughly puzzled - the unpredictability of the emotional world he had helplessly woven himself into was proven powerful - and he had no idea what he could possibly say to ease the tension that likely threatened her mind. It was, undoubtedly, as easy as a simplistic confession that declared the chance she spoke of existed. But did it exist? Was there anything worth searching for inside of him?

“I don’t have an answer for you at this time.” He spoke through the jaw of a mechanical beast, taking a precious step closer, close enough to share their breaths, but not close enough to feel the sensation of their fur brushing. He lowered his head, the Delta briefly pressing the tip of his nose into the base of the she-wolf’s neck before reestablishing the distance that had formerly limited them. He expected that she would be displeased by his answer. There was nothing “written in stone”, as some would say, about what he had been willing to offer in response. Perhaps she’d be angry, perhaps enough so that she would want to walk away - the worst thing of all is that he probably wouldn’t try and stop her if she did. Nothing flickered in the cold depths of his beautiful irises, unwavering from the female’s face, yet still entirely void of anything deeper than what she saw on the surface. “I wish for you to know that my intention is never to upset you. Sometimes the wanting of a chance does not permit one to be patient, but patience is a necessity for me.” In all honesty, Irrationality wasn’t worth the work or the wait. He was not loving, nor was he emotional, and he suspected that every she-wolf wanted something along those very lines. If it was even possible to lower his guard, and to loosen the boulders that had constructed the blockade in front of his heart, it still was not certain that whatever lay beneath was much better than what was already to be seen. He could not be figured out in the time it took to glance his way. There was more to him, it just had yet to be found.

He took the amount of steps it required to walk passed her, his tail lightly running down the length of her spine as he moved, meant as a luring gesture to ensure she felt the need to pursue. He needed to leave this place. He needed to be left alone with his thoughts. But, despite what he needed, he also had to make sure that she did not confine herself to the hazards of this place while he was not there to interfere with death’s gruesome plan. She deserved to live, but it was entirely up to her whether or not she decided that she wanted to spend some of that life working her way through his many gears. He would never deny her of his company, and he would never deny her of the comfort that he could give. But if she wanted anything more than that, if she truly believed that she wanted it, then there would need to be time. A lot of time. “I don’t want you to lose your hope in the power of a chance.” he tossed the words over his shoulder blankly. Even he could not predict what his words had meant, but he had spoken them with sheer purpose regardless. He had every intention of slipping into the grasps of the shadows, but he lingered a moment longer even still, giving her a chance, among all things, to decide that she wanted his company for just a few more moments of time.

[End with your input? Or end it here. Once again, sorry if she didn’t get everything that she wanted from him. cx Irrationality will never cease to be a pain in the butt.]