[ DashAlt whispers, "[Hello?]" to you. ]

[ You whisper "[*grins* 'ello.]" to DashAlt. ]

DashAlt approaches JaxAlt, moving on silent paws across the courtyard, creeping up behind him and sliding into a half-sitting position, staring down at the mouse with a possessive and slightly predatorial grin curling his lips.

JaxAlt yawns, shifting slightly, sound asleep... the straps of his pack are carefully knotted around his paws, making sure that any would-be thief would wake him. His tail twitches and every few seconds he shivers, lost in a strange and somewhat disturbing dream.

DashAlt notes with amused affection JaxAlt's precautions with his precious backback and sits back on his heels, content merely to watch the mouse in sleep for a few moments, observing the many expressions that flicker over mobile features.

JaxAlt's hindpaws kick slightly, whiskers twitching as he mumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like 'hungry monster'... he shudders again, clenching his paws, lost in his nightmare.

DashAlt scowls rather darkly, not particularly liking the portent of this dream and reaches forward a gentled paw to touch JaxAlt's brow, hoping to draw him kindly from sleep to reality.

JaxAlt tosses, his paws flexing again, but remains bound in sleep... his murmurs stop, however, and instinctively he presses closer to the cool paw against his forehead, drawing some sort of comfort from the contact.

Gorgar Firelord: may i sit with you? :-)

(You see Gorgar Firelord.)
> Desert wolf from the far west. Known as a freindly and social furry, but don't mock him because he doesnt hasitate to use his 2 battle axes he has on his back. [bi] [silly and stupid sometimes :P] [protector of Taiadoi] [In love with Darkness Feline] [Can be shy] [Pretty buff Canine] [height 6'4" (occ too :) [19 ic 16 occ]

JaxAlt's ears twitch at the unfamiliar voice, so close... the sound of it begins to draw him from his slumber.

DashAlt strokes the lines from the tormented brow, rather enjoying the dual ambiguity of his role of comfort-provider and nightmare inducer and slides an arm about JaxAlt's shoulders, cushioning his head from the hard ground.

DashAlt glances up at the newcomer and then at the stirring mouse "Feel free, by all means, but I'm not sure how long we intend to be here ... I'm hoping to take my friend home, as soon as he recovers a little."

JaxAlt murmurs again, the words spilling from sleepy lips as his eyes flicker open, looking up... "Safety..."

JaxAlt blinks... and realizes whose arms he seems to be lying in. With a start he sits up, struggling to keep himself from bolting, eyes wide and himself quite awake now.

Gorgar Firelord: I just think it feels so good to see other... men cuddling :-).

Gorgar Firelord: Me and my boyfriend got ambushed by 5 guys today when we were cuddling...

Gorgar Firelord: [I've sent in the log to the Furc Adminstration so they will probably get banned]

DashAlt withdraws his arm with a hasty motion and sits back, wiping the smile from his lips and replacing it with a less personal one of greeting, allowing JaxAlt to wriggle from his arms. "I suppose I startled you as usual."

Gorgar Firelord: hah... i guess I'll leave you two alone :-)

DashAlt glances at the other "Such prejudice is always disgusting."

JaxAlt laughs ruefully, nodding and checking his backpack instinctively, one paw rummaging about inside to reassure himself that his precious books are intact. "Aye, I'd been lost in a bit of an unpleasnt dream and didn't expect to see y..anyone when I woke up."

DashAlt grins a little at JaxAlt's motions with his backpack "You know, few hold our estimation for the written word, for most thieves that backpack of yours would be a poor haul indeed."

JaxAlt looks up sharply at DashAlt's words, for a moment letting his good humor slip... but seeing that his new owner meant only what he said, he nods. "Perhaps you're right... but I'd rather not let this pack out of my sight, if I can help it."

Gorgar Firelord: I'll leave you two now, have a nice day :-)

Gorgar Firelord waves

DashAlt curls his lips his lips into a politely mirthless smile that looks more like a grimace at the canine's story, his attention focused mainly on JaxAlt.

DashAlt spreads his paws in a reassuring gesture "I spoke only in jest, I had no intention of demeaning the worth of your work."

JaxAlt finishes his check and pulls his paws free, shaking his head. "Forgive my rudeness... perhaps in the future I'll find the words to explain the story behind this pack. I truly would not care to loose it. And now... are we off? Or is the day to be spent here in the cafe?"

DashAlt regains his feet in another one of his casually supple motions, shaking the dust from his tail with paws with customary fastidiousness. "Certainly, as a locale this can go on our list of places where we shall not be inclined to linger," and he strides off towards home, without a glance behind, assuming JaxAlt is following.

(You enter the dream of DashAlt.)
(Lines of DragonSpeak: 76)

JaxAlt stretches, stifling a yawn, still a bit sleepy. "Odd, but it already feels as if I'm coming home, arriving here... must just be the yard itself. Reminds me of where I grew up."

DashAlt looks strangely flattered "Should we stay outside for a little then, perhaps we could take some cushions into the shade of one of the walls and you could enjoy the pleasant weather."

JaxAlt nods slowly, looking about interestedly. "I think I would enjoy that, if you've no objections... would you mind if we talked? I've so many questions and a fresh pen, and..."

JaxAlt blushes, realizing that he's about to become a tad too enthusiastic. "If you don't mind me writing, that is."

JaxAlt's eartips again shade to crimson, realization of several things striking him at once and leaving him more than a little tongue-tied.

DashAlt seems to be in an indulgent humour and inclines his head "Not at all, I'm sure I shall be able to tolerate the 'incessant scratching' although I'm not sure I'll be able to supply you with much to write down." He turns away and collects one of the pillows and it is hard to tell whether or not he is smirking as he does so.

JaxAlt settles onto the cushion, churring softly as he sorts through his pack, pulling out a second blank book, an inkwell, and a soft quill pen... he arranges them fussily, opening the book. It's full of scratchouts and blotches along with the text it contains, clearly the repository for his rough draft.

DashAlt throws his cushion on the ground and lounges across it, his elbows balanced on the grass and propping up his chin, his tail waving lazily and almost hypnotically behind him. The overhanging leaves cast spiky shadows across his face, making his expression hard to read and, although the drone of insects hangs heavy in the air, they seem to avoid him.

JaxAlt watches the furre before him for several long minutes, lost in the play of shadows and the slow whine of the area's life... then finally shakes himself as if awaking again, blinking rapidly and turning pages until he finds a blank one. "Forgive me, I was lost in thought again. A fragment of dream, perhaps. Questions... the first one is the most complicated, perhaps. What are you, sir?"

DashAlt chuckles softly, twisting idle fingers through a stray lock of hair, "Such a simply phrased question with so many implications ... how can I answer such a question? I am known by many names, most them mere approximations of an inaccurately understood concept, most them sensationalising, some of them damning, some whispered with thrills of exquisite faer, some breathed in awe and covetous admiration, some expressed with false and pretentious scientific detachment. The nearest name you probably know would be ..." he pauses and utters the word on a rising sigh, as if he despises it, "vampire."

JaxAlt nods, ticking off words on his paws as he speaks. "Vampire, undead, immortal, killer, etc... why not tell me why each of those does NOT apply? That will be a fair enough starting place..."

DashAlt drops his head onto folded paws, staring blankly at the grass as he ponders "Vampire does not apply because, aside from a penchant for fresh blood, many of myths-taken-to-be-fact are cobwebs in the wind to me ... religious symbolism is merely that, garlic is an unfortunate ordour but in no way life-threatening, water I dislike on principle and light, as you see, does not harm to me."

JaxAlt nods, already beginning to write, the soft scratching of pen on paper competing with the insects for background noise. "How many of the myths ARE facts, however?"

DashAlt: With regard to me or with regard to vampire?

JaxAlt grins faintly. "You first, if you don't mind."

DashAlt shakes his head, still smiling "I think that is something you will have to ascertain for yourself but, please, my fondness for you might not survive regular drenching in holy water or crucifix attacks ... and I certainly will not tolerate garlic breath."

JaxAlt chuckles, making a few quick notes. "No garlic... no holy water... no crucifixes. Do you object to stakes, silver bullets, and decapitation, or do I get to try those and see?"

DashAlt: If you tried them, you would certainly see me objecting, shall we say, vociferously.

DashAlt speaks lightly but there is an unmistakeable air of menace about him that belies the jest and implies threat.

JaxAlt manages a bold grin. "If I ever take it into my head to attempt them, I will make sure to take that into account. Fortunately for me, I don't intend anything quite so foolish. Undead... what about that title?"

JaxAlt goes back to writing, hoping his quick subject change is only noted in passing.

DashAlt glances at the mouse somewhat suspiciously, lowering the lids over guarded eyes and, for a moment, it seems as though he isn't going to be drawn back into conversation but then he shrugs and answers: "My recollection of ... another life ... is hazy at best, sometimes I doubt I ever lived one but I remember nothing of death."

JaxAlt nips at his pen, thinking, his gaze once more on DashAlt instead of on the page... he makes no mention of the warning look he seems to be receiving but nods, still chewing at his pen. "You've been a... whatever you are... for a long time, then? Immortality is true?"

DashAlt: Just because I have avoided dying as yet, does not mean death is impossible for me, I am not arrogant enough to consider myself immortal, nor foolish enough for eternal life carries its own curse.

DashAlt relaxes slowly again and, when he opens his eyes to

You say, "Perhaps immortal would be the wrong word, then... let me put it another way. Are you likely to die of old age within anything resembling a normal span of time?"

DashAlt relaxes slowly again and when he opens his eyes, paying languid attention to JaxAlt's scribbling, his features are no longer distrustful.

DashAlt: Probably not, is the shortest answer I can give to that.

JaxAlt nods again, his own features settling into a calm smile, unconsciously mimicking the relaxation so clear on his owner's face, his quill again busy. "So... no weaknesses you are willing to admit to, an extended lifespan... what exactly is it you feed off of?"

JaxAlt's voice betrays his interest in this answer, self-preservation and curiosity combined to keep his attention fixed on DashAlt now.

DashAlt pauses for a few seconds before answering, perhaps through his self-conscious sense of drama or even perhaps to give him time to choose a way of expressing the truth in a manner that will be least offensive to the mouse, "Sometimes on blood, if nothing more satisfying is forthcoming...."

JaxAlt latches on to that phrase, hoping that it will be his safety net of sorts. "Nothing more satisfying?"

JaxAlt is no longer writing, his attention and his hopes for a peaceful term of service hinging on the answer to this question, body poised, wary.

DashAlt looks straight at JaxAlt and his eyes glitter with an insatiable, desperate hunger that seems but barely controlled beneath his usual facade of elegance and detachment, "I prefer something more personal, less biologically tainted, something uncontaminated with the mess of disease and waste that suffuses any living organism ... I crave emotion, as you may have guessed."

JaxAlt closes his eyes, a near-suicidal curiousity driving him on, the same need that started him on his collection and led him to the Pens... and lets himself fear, trembling, every fragment of nightmare and half-voiced worry pouring through him as he meets the gaze of the furre before him, matching hunger with fright, need with desperation, and the urge to devour with the urge to run... his voice is shaking as he speaks. "H..how do you feed, then?"

DashAlt's eyes are swirling voids of dark, primitive appetites and he shudders beneath the onslaught of stimulus provided by JaxAlt's fear, his tail whipping at the air furiously and his claws gouging at the soft grass in an effort to keep the predator at bay. His voice is ragged as he tries to provide the honest answer "It depends, somewhat, on my mood, but, sometimes," and, as he speaks, something in him seems to give way.

DashAlt lunges forward with a lightning fast action, drawing the mouse forward in a firm but not crushing grip, burying his cold face in JaxAlt's soft fur, finishing his sentence in a hasty underbreath "Sometimes gently, so very gently."

JaxAlt shudders, the chill touch sending a shiver of pure terror through him... and yet echoing the comfort he'd taken while asleep as well. His mind spins, fear rebounding, curiousity building, and his heart pounding so rapidly he can barely breathe; the pen slips from his paws as he trembles, one paw raising to press against Dash's chest, not to push away, too far gone for that... but simply to reassure himself that he is at least awake, not trapped in another nightmare.

DashAlt makes a strange, muffled gasping noise (rather unexpected in one who does not breathe) against the fur of JaxAlt's cheek, ruffling it beneath his parting lips, as his icy, unyielding clasp grows tighter still around the slender body of the mouse, his paws spanning across JaxAlt's back in instinctive, caressing motions that soothe even as they immobilise.

JaxAlt's shuddering slows, his back arching as he presses forward, drawing what comfort he can from the careful touch of strong paws on his back... he closes his eyes once more, drawing on that hint of pleasure and safety, trying to drown himself in that sensation only, and his efforts are not without reward... already he is reeling from the simple contact, sweet hungers of his own rising to meet those of the furre who holds him so tight.

DashAlt, with a stifled moan of frantic need exacerbated by the hesitant motions of the no longer struggling mouse trapped between his paws, drags rough, hard lips across contrastingly quiescent fur, the dart of an unnaturally cold tongue teasing, ticklish and almost repellent as he does so, until chill flesh meets warmer flesh at JaxAlt's lips and the insistent pressure of needle teeth parts them.

JaxAlt gasps, the fear returning as the deadly pearls he'd glimpsed before are pressed so dangerously close... again he moves, mouth opening almost unwillingly, his trembling paws rising to wrap fearfully around the creature whose hungers he so willingly provoked, eyes shut tight... and still the troubling swirl of pleasure mingles with his terror, leaving him spellbound, no longer sure of anything save the coolness tracing up his spine and the desperate desire to deepen the half-kiss that's begun.

DashAlt leans forward, using the forehead of the other to support his own, almost as if, caught in the inescapable web of his surging thirsts, he lacks the strengh to hold himself upright, opening, with reluctance, blured, half-drugged eyes unlike the usual pinpricks of manipulative, knife-edge intelligence and driving forward into the proffered mouth with an ill-controlled, penetrative violence that sucks feverishly at the warmth flowering between two mouths sealed together at the lips.

JaxAlt tenses at the harsh contact, barely recognizing the cool, collected individual who had purchased him anywhere within this devouring creature... but once again, his own curiousity, this time driven by something beyond a simple thirst for knowledge, pushes him on... his own small tongue flicks and probes at the invader, curling invitingly, his paws clenching as tightly at Dash's silky fur as he held to his pack, looking desperately for protection in the embrace and touch of the very being who seems ready to devour him.

DashAlt's whole body quivers wildly at the tenatative touch of the little mouse and the paws at his back relent as if driven to it by something beyond their owner's strengh, growing cradling and even gentle, while, at the joined mouths, a creeping warmth saturates both cat and mouse, softening harsh lips, although, ironically, it is JaxAlt's own warmth that the creature so coaxingly returns as if it is his own offering. Through heat and the sweetness of contact and the haze of slowly satisfying desires, what is left of fear fades away into a shadow's memory, the emotion sliding as easily between giver and recipient as tongue across tongue.

JaxAlt once more moves, not to pull away but instead longing for more of this strange bliss, contact turning into communion, the pleasure he first struggled to find now flooding him, leaving him again breathless, body shifting in his captor's grasp, helpless to do anything but press closer, drowning in the warmth that pours between the two entwined figures... once he tries to speak, to catch his breath, but even the thought of such a thing sends tremors through him and drives him, aching, deeper into the swirling caresses and joys this maddening pleasure brings.

DashAlt draws the little mouse still more closely to him, nestling tight against the rapidly beating heart that reverberates through his own frame like an alarum to life and energy, as if attempting to surround himself with the warmth and the emotion and the living, breathing, being, to drown himself in the swirl of the blood, the pulsing of the veins and the barrage of activity that is the basic continuance of existence. He swallows at the heaving breaths that pass through the epicenter of the kiss, drinking them down as he might once have taken air of his own, revelling, as he does so, in the waves of confused and unbearable pleasure that emanate from the mouse.

JaxAlt arches upward, silently giving himself, the rush and flow of his body and the swift thunder of his emotions, to the feline who holds him... a tiny squeak, as close to a whimper as he can manage, escapes from his parted lips, tumbling into the waiting maw, the last traces of doubt swallowed. He shudders once more, giving himself completely to the haze of uncertainty and meaningless hopes that threaten to overwhelm him, his eyes wide now, searching for the fierce emerald gaze he craves.

DashAlt lets out a deep, purring murmur of absolute bliss that bubbles from his open mouth into JaxAlt's as he devours wave after wave of overwhelming, stolen pleasure, threatening at any second to carry him over and beyond any boundaries of rationality or sanity. His grip tightens spasmodically for a second or two and then slackens again and, with a moan of agonising unwillingness, he tears his lips from the sweetly compliant lips of the mouse, releasing his grasp only to bring his paws up to tenderly hold either side of JaxAlt's face, stroking gently, fondly, even apologetically. Barely a breath's-space between the two almost-touching faces, it is possible to watch the gradual fading of the wild madness in the clouded eyes.

JaxAlt stifles another whimper, this one of loss, the chaos that had bloomed in Dash's eyes finding a match somewhere within him, his own emotions and body protesting the cessation of contact... but slowly, so slowly, his own self-preservation and his shame at so completely abandoning himself slip in, his defenses rising. Timidly, almost fearfully, he nuzzles the paws caressing him... then with a gasp of near-pain, slips back on the cushion, pulling himself away from this terrible, wonderful feline.

DashAlt drops his paws to his lap, still somehat disorientated and surprised to find that which had been full of soft, warm, snuggling mouse a few seonds away, suddenly empty. Although serenity has returned in some measure and he no longer appears to be something entirely primitive and unrestrained, he seems to be inwardly reeling after the torrent of delicious emotion that had almost overcome him completely. Caught between two states and not fully belonging to either, he looks oddly alone.

JaxAlt blinks, lifting one small paw and tracing it slowly over the finery clothing the feline before raising it further, stroking fur instead of fabric, his eyes still caught in a world of green-hued emotions, locked on the gaze of the furre who has just managed to turn his universe upside down... he too seems caught in some internal battle, his need for contact and desire for Dash's smile to return clashing painfully with the fear that is trickling back into him.

DashAlt places a large, sleek paw over the smaller one, as if encouraging it and, then, for the second time that day, closes the gap between them, on this occasion much less ruthlessly. His arms slide about JaxAlt's waist, drawing him into a sort of hug and his head nuzzles up beneath the mouse's chin, furry feline ears tickling neck and lips. Gazing up with sleepy, sated eyes, a low purr rumbles deep in his throat.

JaxAlt chuckles as he snuggles close, fear again flitting away, this time chased off by the sight of what had been a frightening beast indeed purring and nuzzling like a kitten... his voice still trembles, paws weak as they twine around his owner's shoulders, but he seems content. "I th..think this story might t..take a while to finish... and I'm glad."

DashAlt grins lazily, settling back on JaxAlt's lap, staring indolently at the sky and stretching his legs out before him with a contented sigh. His eyes glint mischeviously up at the mouse, reflecting the endless cloudless sky, "Why, this is only the prologue."

JaxAlt curls his tiny form around Dash, his paw catching up the quill, using the tip of it to trace the edge of the feline's ear and down further, along the jaw, down to the throat, an odd caress indeed, but surprisingly pleasant... it's clear he is well-used to guiding a pen. "I shudder to think of the first chapter, then... it's exhausting simply getting past the opening paragraphs. Such a complicated tale..." He grins, churring softly.

DashAlt goes almost cross-eyed trying to follow the wandering course of the quill and then gives up, content merely to enjoy the deft motions of the quill, steered by nimble, expert paws, "Are you inking in the initial plot on me?"

JaxAlt dips the pen into his inkpot and scribes a florid 'JaxAlt' across the pale fur of Dash's muzzle, laughing. "No, simply putting my stamp on a piece of work that I'd hate to have stolen by some other ambitious and morally deficient author."

DashAlt rolls over quickly, bowling the little mouse over with him too and captures the quill with a swift grab of his paw, pining JaxAlt down with playful strenght and inscribing, with the air of one who has been long out of practice, a heavy, black 'DashAlt' in an ornate calligraphy that looks as though it belongs to a long-forgotten era over JaxAlt's forehead.

JaxAlt grins up unrepentantly, quite pleased with the careful mark on him, guessing from the feel of it that it's well-done indeed. "And what, pray tell, is your excuse for sullying my poor fur with ink?"

DashAlt chuckles and releases the mouse, collapsing onto his back again and dragging JaxAlt over with him so he can lie on his chest, returning the grin with a smudged, black muzzle "Revenge of course, in return for sullying mine."

JaxAlt sprawls comfortably on the now-warm body, petting the silky fur with undeniable fascination, his eyes sparkling with amusement and pleasure, curiousity building again... with a wicked grin on his muzzle he leans close, enquiring in a stage whisper, "So... was it good for you?"

DashAlt lands a good-humoured, completely gentled blow between the mouse's cheeky ears and drawls in a suitably dramatic voice "You have no idea, love," but, suddenly serious, he adds, "You really don't ... I have so much pleasure inside me, so much warmth, I could almost squander it on trivia ... the twitching of your tail ... the colour of the sky, this rather nauseating object..." He plucks a tiny blue wildflower from the grass and proceeds to weave it through JaxAlt's animate tail.

JaxAlt's whiskers twitch, amused again as he waves the flower proudly, a banner born by a conquering hero... then collapses in giggles for a moment, the rush of emotions he's felt still leaving him a bit dizzy. "I... I've no idea if what I felt was a..anything like what you did. But if it was, I can see why envy's often the underlying thought when people speak of your kind. Squander... you can choose whether or not to use what you've... taken?"

JaxAlt hesitates over that last word, feeling so full, so satisfied, that he can't entirely believe anything was drawn from him, rather that he was fed, glutted, on Dash's own sensations.

DashAlt smiles with a trace of bitterness "People often envy that which they cannot fully understand. I can use the emotions I " he seems, unwilling, like JaxAlt, to use the word take, " share "as I choose to distribute them but every feeling I have is becomes precious, rationed resource because my supply is always distressingly finite and liable to run dry at any time. I would gladly sacrifice all that many might 'envy' for the spontaneity of true, home-grown emotion."

JaxAlt trails gentle paws over his new-found story, his tiny half-sharp claws scritching soothingly at the flesh beneath fur. "I can't say I truly understand, having always had an excess of emotion rather than the deficit that seems your lot... but I can say that if all of your 'meals' are that delightful to the person who is on the menu for the day, I've no complaints and gladly offer to supply what I can in trade for this tale..."

JaxAlt runs his paw gently over Dash's tail as he speaks, half-punning, half simple caress.

DashAlt chuckles, with a half-melancholy look, but continues the pun as he sways his tail teasingly out of reach "Always in pursuit of a tale, aren't you? But, think, not all emotions are pleasant, therefore not all my ... ... suppliers have pleasant experiences." He stirs, making an effort to banish the creeping, darker tone, "Think if I were to have a whim to be bored ... imagine the state of my victim, lulled into a state of endless, inescapable ennui."

JaxAlt snickers. "Ahh, I may have laid claim to this work but I've no objection to others reading it... if it's boredom you seek, you'd have an easier time finding it elsewhere. I am afraid I take interest in far too many things. Other emotions, though..."

JaxAlt's voice trails off but his paw again moves, stroking lightly, his eyes offering what he cannot find the words for.

DashAlt catches the paw with this own, bringing to his lips to plant a nibbling kiss, lightly grazing the knuckles, a silent acknowledgment of a silent offer. As he does so, his eye falls upon the manacles that ornament the slender wrists and he looks up, a question of his own forming on his lips.

JaxAlt's ears again crimson, his continued silence more shyness and an old, bittersweet memory than any thought to deny a tale to Dash... he looks at the bands of iron, sturdy enough to hold a small mouse but delicate too, the edges polished and beveled, as if they were meant to be more decoration than bond. His eyes close for a moment and the sadness welling up from him is palpable, loss and regret blending into something beyond words.

DashAlt silently draws JaxAlt into his arms, holding him tightly against his chest, sensitive, as one might expect, to the ebb and flow of emotion. Touched, perhaps, by the pain, in a gesture that demands nothing in return, he drops the lightest of kisses on JaxAlt's closed eyes and simply cuddles him.

JaxAlt buries himself in the warm embrace, part of him wondering if tears, too, are an emotion that Dash sometimes craves, part of him still thinking of another furre with pale fur and eyes like desert sands... he curls up, biting back sobs, outwardly seeming calm... but the tang of his unshed tears stains the air and the uneven catch of his breath gives the lie to his mask.

DashAlt sniffs the air slightly, staring down at the top of JaxAlt's head, intrigued, inspite of his attempted sympathy, by this new emotion he has accidentally roused. His tongue laps soothingly around the eyes he previously kissed, almost as if enticing the tears gathering beneath the lids to fall.

JaxAlt gives himself over to the tears he's so often held at bay, paws pressed against each other, against iron, his fragile body twisting with the force of his sobs, teeth clenched to keep from calling a name he has tried to put behind him, leaning against Dash and accepting that even these most private memories are to be plundered... and strangely unconcerned by this, knowing he should feel guilt, shame, and instead realizing that only relief is mixed with the sorrow that wracks him.

DashAlt murmurs tender incoherent nothings, placing his heavy paws over the tight knot of smaller paws and cool iron, drinking with unbecoming eagerness the tears that fall from JaxAlt's eyes, the sandpaper rasp of his tongue strangely cleansing inspite of his ill-concealed satisfaction at this unexpected emotional bonus. As with most of his actions, there exists a seemingly irreconcilable ambiguity within his attempts to bring some solace and his excitement at the personal satisfaction such pain will grant him

JaxAlt merely floats in the tender care, Dash's pleasure in his tears seeming to draw more out, deeper memories, rather than comforting or frightening... yet he does seem comforted, content to wash the pain away, to feel strong paws once more on the cuffs he still bears with pride, to curl up and sob knowing that here, at least, his emotions are not going to be mocked, rather treasured.

DashAlt runs a succession of tiny, appreciative kisses from the corners of JaxAlt's eyes all the way to his chin, careful as he does so to ensure he has licked up any vague remnents of moisture that might have escaped down the sleek fur, nuzzling affectionately as he goes, as if to distract the mouse's attention from his eager pusuit of tears and the glee with which he revels in the wash of wistful regret, loss, loneliness and pain, content merely to experience vicariously rather than absorb.

JaxAlt shifts in Dash's grasp, turning his head to kiss the inkstained muzzle that moves over his jaw, half-aware of the cat's tastes and needs, half-aware of his memories... but awareness of both is fading, the rush of it leaving him tired now, tears slowing, pain fading, even the pleasure settling, becoming comfort and contentment, nothing more, nothing less... he snuggles closer and closes his eyes, a tiny yawn seeming to open him impossibly wide, then churrs as a daydream catches him...

DashAlt regretfully allows the mouse to find comfort, contenting himself with a gentle return kiss on the yawning lips, grinning at the thought that such a small mouse could manage to yawn quite so massively. Lolling back on the grass, he tucks JaxAlt's head on his shoulder and wraps firm arms around him, holding him close and protected, running his fingers absently through the fluffy hair between JaxAlt's ears, teasing out some tangles that had formed with the expertise of the terminally vain.

JaxAlt chuckles sleepily, the daydream turning into some oddness involving hairbrushes and deep blue eyes and sand... he yawns once more, drifting off, daydream becoming dream, then dreamless sleep, not a hint of nightmare to disturb him. [*blinks* Five hours. WOW.]

DashAlt: [Ulp ... eeek ... I'm meant to be going out tonight ... in fact, I was meant to have gone out half an hour ago]

You say, "[*laughing* I think I'm flattered. And YOU are a hopeless internet addict. I was meant to be in bed hours ago, I'm dead on my feet again. It's what, 8:30 there? Gods... I suspect you'd better get going. And this time it's my turn to feel regretful. :-P]"

DashAlt: [I'm not an internet addict - I'm a *you* addict :-)]