Racheria sighs and slumps her head over the plate, dropping the fork back onto the table while tension courses along her veins and sharpens her all her senses down to the brush of air currents against exposed fur.

'Greaaat. He's alert now.' She thinks as she leans back in her chair, letting her head flop back against the headrest. Raising her head, she meets the empty ice blue pits of his eyes with her own, the pressure of his gaze sending a burst of adrenaline into her already tense blood. Time stretches out as he watches her impassively, moments compressing together to seem as if each second passes slower and slower. 'That'll make it harder to get his help.'

"... Why I'm here is no need for your concern, White."

She says, breaking the crushing silence as she turns her head to look out the massive window.

"Bullshit."

He replies, the sound of his voice no longer holding the soft rumble but a hard, savage growl. "Everything that happens in this place concerns me, from aircraft passing overhead to the collapsing of a tree. But after a year, you show up in my territory. The freaking government doesn't know or care I live here, not even my former squad knows this of place, but YOU did." He lifts and points one of his fingers at her, a savage three inch claw extended from the tip present in all his fingers.

She shudders softly at the feral presence within his voice, the flow of his words directed straight at her without the chance to reply. '... Wait. He hasn't seen his old squad since service? ... He'll not like what I know of them then.' She thinks, turning her head to look at him with a confused and sad expression held in her eyebrows.

-----------------------------

White lowers his arm back down flat onto the table, the plate brushed closer to the table center as he shifts his seating angle to face Racheria entirely.

'Something is definitely off....'

He thinks as he sets his bare, animal-like feet down on the hardwood floor, set slightly farther apart than his shoulders if he was standing up straight.

"So tell me again. Why are you here?" He asks, leaning forward slightly in a ready position as his left paw folds around the chair's backrest edge in a loose but firm contact grip. "And it better be worth the risk I'm taking."

She jumps slightly at the word risk, a rapid glance at something well beyond the surrounding forestry then refocuses back on him. The flash of fear within her eyes as she locks gazes making him apprehensive and highly wary of the words, but still words he must hear.

"... I need your help." She finally says the words that she never wanted to say with such depth at him. Sighing, she pushes her plate closer to the center of the table as well, her appetite apparently gone with his sudden questioning. "Fuck, I wouldn't be here if I didn't need you so badly, but I'm being hunted. You may not know it White, but times are changing rapidly. We're in a losing battle with in the modern world."

She sighs and shakes her head, a puff of chilled air escaping from her muzzle to show her emotional control slipping into her magic.

"The worst of it? It's not everyone. Only the ones that have 'dangerous abilities' in their minds, Like my elemental magic, or supernatural strength. Hell, you might even fall under the veil of dangerous just because of your experience and knowledge." She sighs and presses her palms into her forehead, rubbing softly against the pressure there for several moments then lays her paws flat against the table. "There's more as well...."

White maintains his steady appearance while the anger he feels from Racheria's attempt is drowned by the fear he feels radiating from her as she speaks.... and the rage that boils within his blood as she describes what else is happening. Silence fills the space as Racheria stops speaking, only to be broken as he slides his chair back with a thrumming vibration and rises off the comfortable but hard seat.

He walks sharply towards the massive window and stands before the pane, his paws held against his back just above the base of the hips, while his legs are spread wide in the style of the Army's parade rest stance. He holds that position for a time, a variety of thoughts coursing through his mind with each passing moment. Sighing, he drops his raised shoulders and turn his head over his shoulder to look at Racheria standing by his left side gazing out at the forest beyond.

"....So you are asking me to protect you against an enemy among allies, some of whom I would die for? Of what made me into the creature I am, through pain and hollow nights?" He says softly, though the words vibrate through the air with the deep ringing turmoil that he feels. She turns her head to look at his, tears pinned to the edges of her eyes as she meets his.

"White, I wish I could say that you don't have to fight, that blood won't flow because of this," Racheria says softly with her voice barely held together by more will to be heard than anything else. "But I would be lying to you, and I have no one else that I can ask or trust to help all the way. Please. Hel..." She continues until her voice cracks and a sob escapes, the tears flowing down her cheeks in crystalline channels.

He turns and reaches out for her, guiding her shuddering form in front of his and wrapping his arms around her core. She sobs again then grabs hold of his crossed arms and follows them with her own as she cries out, releasing the emotions she desperately tries to hold back in her jerking sobs and shaking gasps. He merely rests his muzzle on top of her head, keeping her steady within his arms.

".... I will help you."

White continues to hold her calmly against his chest, feeling her frigid tears fall against his fur-covered arms with each second that passes. She lets go of his arms after several minutes and brushes her right paw against her right eye, a soft shuddering breath filling the now quiet air. He lifts one of his own paws to her other eye and wipes at her left eye. The sub-zero liquid he feels freezing his finger forces a soft hiss from him, but he draws the tears away from her eye and flicks it off his numb fingertip.

"You've asked for my help, and I swear upon my shattered soul that When you show Fear beside me, I will end your terror. When you cry out into the night, I will appear to brush away your tears. I only ask that when you see what I must be, you do not reject what I am." He says softly against her head in a quiet yet solemn rumble. To his surprise, she sighs and reaches out slowly towards his left paw with her right, drawing it back for a second then grabbing hold of his paw with a firm grip.

-----------------------------

Racheria runs her fingertips along his, feeling the coarse texture of his marred skin below the thick fur along faint scar lines. His palm reveals more scars under her gentle touch, some too damaged to hide underneath his fur. She glides her paw to his wrist and guides it to rest just at the base of her throat, laying her paw over his to feel closer to him.

Taking a calming deep breath, she looks up at their partial reflection in the window and sees the noticeable differences between them: Her blood red tips of black fur peeking from her neckline while encased within his white fur arms, as scattered scars show through his fur in places along his hard, uncovered upper body. Her narrow wolf muzzle overshadowed by his more crushingly masculine one. Their eyes hold the largest difference, hers being dark blood red and revealing of her emotions with a passing glance, while his icy blue stare holds no buried sorrow, no whisper of hidden savagery, nothing but a soul piercing depth within.

".... Sometimes, what we need to survive is the monster buried within. You know your other side, so I will believe in you to the end." She says, closing her eyes and leaning back against the warmth rising from his chest fur.

-----------------------------

White holds her close against his chest as he feels her lean further into his body, never changing his gaze from the creature holding her within it's reflective shine.

'The monster isn't buried or locked away. I lose myself to that side more than I like to admit.'

He thinks as he meets the cold gaze staring back at him, then glances down at the female mirrored in his arms. How she holds her paw over his own, the peaceful image she radiates with the gentle resting of her head with closed eyes, bringing serenity against savagery in the reflection.

With a sigh, he lowers his real sight down to the top of her head and blinks at what is marking the skin between her ears, blending in with the reddish color tips of her fur. The jagged scarring of regenerating skin blurs the smoothness of the healthy skin surrounding it, shattering the facade of her travelling unharmed. Raising his arm and shifting her fur with his right paw, he traces the wound across her head in a diagonal mark from just above her right eye to behind her left ear. A wound tract from something with jagged edges scraping harshly overhead.

'What hell have you gone through to get here?'

He thinks as he softly brushes his paw over the wound, elicting a soft moan from her.