Volcano Pack:                 

Leah froze when he moved, stiffening when she felt his hand come up to enshroud her in a hug, her breath catching in her throat, cries dying down if ever so slightly at the gentle sound of his voice. The small black and white structure that was her tail came up, curling over itself as she bolted upright, pulling away from the light grip of his embrace before he could caress her too soothingly, not knowing whether or not she liked the gentleness or the caring nature of his touch, a startled snarl rippling across her maw as she pulled back, scrambling away from him as her mouth opened, then closed, finally settling on a small "o" as she stared at him in shock. Wait...so he had other lives? This wasn't his last? The idiot! He'd given her such a scare, and he HAD OTHER LIVES?! Distraught as she was she missed the implication of confusion in his voice, her features hardening once again as she locked the tender, vulnerable Leah away once again, putting on the cold, tough front she always wore in the face of tragedy, going back up onto her knees, pale hand lashing out in a rather vicious punch to his shoulder, the female forgoing the urge to slap him, opting instead for something that would do more lasting damage, or that would leave him with a greater reminder. "Y-you...!" She spit and spluttered, grabbing the front of his shirt by the lapels and lifting his upper torso up and off the floor with ease, due to her Wolven strength, shaking him roughly by the shoulders. "You had multiple lives? How dare you! I thought I was going to have to bury you! Do you know what that's like? Do you have any frickin' idea how traumatic that is? And you had multiple lives?" Her eyes, once so sad and terrified, so hopeless, were now alive and angry, snapping with their usual myriad of antisocial closure, lack of trust, and, of course, the almost ever present anger. Fury had welled up inside of her so that it expanded in her chest, consuming her vision, to the point the female was almost blinded by her rage - it wasn't that she hated Welkin, no, he was rather different from anyone else she had ever met in one of the most puzzling and intriguing of manners, no, instead, it was more embarrassment and shame...she'd never displayed such emotion as she just had while sprawled over his prone form, and here he was waking up on her, witnessing said display, a most private moment, she might add, while left to wallow in the depths of her despair, because he had failed to mention he had multiple lives. It was true, he had saved her, he had shown her kindness without rhyme or reason, and he had offered some foreign sensation known as hope to the otherwise pitiless, almost completely closed off, somewhat feral, female of a girl, the blue haired vixen that had managed to avoid her captors for two years before the pair of them had ever dreamed of catching up, though in the back of her mind, she had to admit, if it weren't for this male lying so prone before her, blushing at her vivid reaction to his return in life, she most assuredly would not have been here. This was the only thing that kept her from pounding him into a bloody pulp - as angry as she was, she could not forget the debt she owed him, and so with a disgusted huff, released his shirt, permitting him to fall back against the hardened floor of the old tank with a snarl as she threw her hands up, rising shakily to her feet and stomping off to the other side, with a muttered snap of, "Whatever, you do realize I probably hit my head or something back in the alleyway. Or when you almost fell on me in the bar fight. It's not personal." She grumbled and cursed as she crossed her arms over her chest, shivering rather pathetically despite all her portrayal of strength, sitting before the grimy window of the tank as she crossed her legs into an Indian style position, sniffling as quietly and discreetly as possible while she swiped the traitorous drops of liquid known as tears from the ivory pallor of her cheeks, ears flattening against her skull. The darkness of the shadows within the small makeshift home hid her expression, but it was clear even from afar that she was tense, her body as taunt as ever, and she clearly was not happy about the sudden turn of events...or rather, she wasn't happy at being exposed so emotionally, though there was a portion of her that was glad Welkin was alive - he was unlike any other creature she'd ever met, and quite frankly, he puzzled her, giving the young girl the impression he warranted further study, though from this encounter, she figured it might be better done from afar. Besides, it wasn't like she could stay - it was only a matter of time before her father returned, and his minions along with him, and then he would be in danger all over again. No, best not to get too attached now, to sever the beginning bonds of what could only be called friendship, though Leah would not have recognized the notion even if it'd had reared its lovely head and bit her upon the tail, as she had never experienced such. She knew only that it would be most beneficial for her not to grow to close, or to become to fond, as it would only come back to hurt either one of them, most likely both of them, in the end.

Welkin had flinched slightly taken by surprise at Leah's anger and rage that had appeared out of nowhere. He let out a soft yelp as she slammed him in to the side of the tank feeling bits of metal and screwheads and other knobs and such dig painfully in to his back. He couldnt get his words out untill Leah had released him letting him slide back down on to his rear end as she huffed and stomped off. Welkin had a look of shock on his face and was finnaly able to speak. "I... Have more lives...?" He had asked the question.. And his confusion was more apparent now than before.. He hadnt been trying to trick Leah. Welkin honestly had no idea he was gifted the ability to come back over and over again. He was never taught.. Never told so... He had lived in a all human village which had no knolage of wolven. He was concidered an outcast at first there untill he had risked his life and saved the town from invading forces.. Welkin stood up his legs shaking a bit as he made his way over to leah ending up sitting on his knees infront of her. He spoke softly. Hoping she would be more composed now. "Leah i swear to you i have no idea about any of this... I dont even know what the hell i am. I was born in to a all human village and never knew my... biological parents. I was basicly passed around from home to home untill my father.. My adopted father you could call him took me in and looked past what i was... Ive never seen other people like me untill ive headed in to this area... I thought i was just.. a oddity that was never sopost to happen... Welkin had teared up again.. Would Leah understand what he was talking about? She had to understand there were areas far away that perhaps did not know what wolven were.. or perhaps areas that had no idea vampires exist. Welkin had grown up his whole life thinking he was alone in thsi world and there wasnt anyone else like him... perhaps that was a part of why he was so.. noble and helped those in need before himself. But it still didnt add up completely on why he kept helping her. Welkin let his gaze drop to the floor when Leah didnt respond immediatly.. He had begun to think she wanted nothing more to do with him. "Go ahead and let your anger out.. Dont hold it in.. It only makes things worse when too much of it collects up without venting.."

(Part one) Leah set her jaw as she glared at him, eyes still stained a tearful red, the lower rims of her precious lids appearing raw where she had rubbed them so much, her arms crossed and hands clutching the suprisingly muscular structure of her slender limbs, a soft growl rumbling in her throat as she briefly looked at him, lips pursed, dark eyes brooding. Her tail was curled over her leg and in her lap, her breath huffed grumpily in her chest - she wasn't used to showing emotion, and she wasn't entirely comfortable with it, hence this little tantrum, if one could call it such, the long blue strands of her electric colored hair drifting down her shoulders to twist in light coying swirls, accented nicely by her pale skin, her leg tapping impatiently against the cold metal of the floor beneath her, not entirely sure if she bought this. I mean...how can he not know what he was? Everyone knew of Wolven! Hell, they were mythical beings of legend, according to some cultures. Though their own creators had exiled and written them off as a constant threat eons ago - it was why humans were often so edgy about them now. Though the mere mortal race had crafted Wolven centuries ago to fight the things that hunted them, in the end, when there was nothing left for their loyal pets to hunt, the people had turned on their Wolven as well - what was to stop them from doing to the people what they had done to the creatures hunting their creators they reasoned? What was to stop them from attempting to take over society and the world? And so, with no other monsters to fear, Wolven became the evil, the vile essence of existence to the human race, and they were now forever shunned. It certainly didn't help that vampires, long thought eradicated, had returned in force and struck up a near war with their once predatory race. Vampires who had evolved past that weaker stage and now actually presented some kind of threat, a rival to the dominance of the Wolven race, though the Dire Bloods could still rock it out, when they must. Leah actually kind of feared the vast majority of Dire Wolven; they were bigger and stronger than she, and the males of her own species were usually pretty large - at least, compared to her, they were. She was small in her animal form, even smaller than the average female of her kind, with a slender and petite build that as of now showed a great deal of her many bony ribs. Though Welkin himself would not have known that - he hadn't seen her in her animal form, and the baggy nature of the ink black hoodie she wore would hide the sheer amount of her weight loss; at least, for the most part.

(Part two) She turned away from him when he positioned himself in front of her only to begin crying himself, snorting quietly as she did so, "I grew up in my father's basement, chained to a wall if I was unlucky enough to have angered him that day, Welkin, and even I know what I am." Besides an antisocial brat, she meant, perhaps? She could tell, at least, he was being honest, though the reason as to why he was being so open with her was quite baffling - all that ever got you was punishment that hurt beyond your dreams, by her own experience, but it was still quite a scenario to wrap her head and mind around, and left her wondering where to begin. At last, she sighed once more, daring to glance back at him for a brieft moment before muttering, "We're called Wolven. You know, the monsters who are pretty much the mutts of the universe. We were mixed with almost everything imagineable as far as mythical creatures go to give us the best and most unique of supernatural abilties. We were guard dogs of the human race until they decided to turn their backs on us. As such, being the normal Wolven that we are, we are born with five lives. That means we can die and return up to four times. The fifth is...permanent." It seemed strange that she would know all this, or that she would have even revealed that tiny portion of her past to him, despite what all he had done for her - she was still having a hard time opening up or trusting him completley, though she was doing better with him than she was with most - after all, she'd almost bitten Matthew Tanner, the bouncer or bodyguard who'd been in her room up at the club at the time of the attack. The way she spoke of death however, may have caught and piqued his interest....how was it that one as young as she could possibly know of it? Unless...Leah let the thought trail into the distance, already knowing full well the answer: Even though she was a mere teenager, only a meager sixteen years old, she'd already experienced death's cold grip, the quiet calm of the peaceful darkness.

Welkin still sat on his knees in a position that must have been very uncomfortable. His knees and legs pressed hard against the metalic floor of the tank that he was at. Leah had no idea where Welkin lived, How isolated it was.. "I had no idea... Ive never been out of my hometown besides when i was at war... And in war... nothing matters besides.. How much food and ammo you have.. what color uniform your wearing.. And how your brothers and sisters in arms are... Leah...I grew up in a village that still used candles at night... That still had a milkman deliver milk daily... That didnt have any cars... The people that lived there... They have no idea what lies out of their little world... I was seen as a... A freak... An outcast... Being the only..."Wolven" to exist in their eyes... Only after i saved them did they accept and apologise... But they still didnt know exactly what i was... They called me "Convel"... Warrior wolf...How... Did you find out....? While being treated so... Horribly by that.... horrible thing..." Welkin couldnt even call her father a man.. In Welkin's eyes he was no man he was a monster.. "You.... lost a life too..?" He asks his voice going more quiet.. He had no idea if Leah would even answer him... She did seem very untrusting.. And after his first death and surprise revival Welkin couldnt help but think Leah had no trust in him again... "And... how many more lives does he have...? there is no way he could have lived through that fight either i made sure i would kill atleast one of them... I thought if i was to die i couldnt let both of them contunue after you... And you seemed to dread facing him more than the other.. So i made sure He would be down..." Welkin explained which shocked Leah. Welkin had somehow stripped her father of a life? Perhaps it was lucky.. That welkin seemed injured and helpless and her father dropped his guard letting welkin get off a lucky shot. Or perhaps Welkin was capable of more than She knew... And more importantly was that her fathers death and revival would berhaps be slower. For he must be way older than welkin and would require more time to heal. Perhaps giving her a small window of hours to days to prepare or run. She alone couldnt take him... She and welkin wouldnt have much of a chance... Perhaps if Alex and any of her friends would join in they would somehow have some sort of a chance against her father.. And there was no doubt Welkin would stick his neck out for her again. Eventhough the reason for that still was lost to her. He waited for her to gather a responce. His stomach letting out an angry growl wanting to be fed. He waited letting Leah speak giving her his full attention as she had done to him. The two were so different... He was so open about... everything while Leah tried to keep everything to herself but so far after meeting Welkin she hadnt done a good job at keeping her walls intact.

Leah did not turn to look at him, nor did she put the scathing essence of her deeply black gaze upon him again, even as he spoke, further explaining what had happened, and why it happened. Why he did not know anything of his heritage. A sigh escaped her as she listened, the ears twitching as the shoulders seemed to droop, too thin, too bony beneath the thick padding of the sweatshirt, the tail upon her leg curling more tightly about the once meaty essence of her thigh. She flattened those pretty blue ears, instruments of the hearing organ that were the same shade of color as her hair, the hue falling somewhere in the electric range, a rather odd look for hair to be sure, but not altogether uncommon. After all, teenagers dying their locks unnatural colors was all the rage, these days. But then, Leah's hair was not dyed...Welkin would have smelled it, if it were, the chemical presence upon the luscious beauty that was her locks would have given away a valid indicator that nothing about her was natural, that she was not whom she pretended to be. Which suggested that the strange hue of the bundle of fibers upon her head was indeed her natural coloring, not that this would have mattered to most, and seeing as Welkin was a recent transplant to the city of Forbidden, would never have given an ounce of consideration to him, but to others, to those who had been living within the realm of the city for so long they could not remember, to those who had been born there, raised and reared within her fickle yet expansive walls, the lineage of her parentage was clear. Only one other creature had hair like that...two, if one counted her elder brother, though of him, Leah knew not. Most didn't even know of her existence, let alone the presence of another child, though reporters everywhere were speculating about the brand new boxer, Lucas, whose resemblance to Senator Cothern was uncanny. So too, was Leah's looks - outwardly, save for the softer features of her mother, which showed mainly in the undertones of her face, the physique present along her slender, misused and malnutritioned body, Leah appeared to resemble him rather strongly as well. And so most whom had managed to catch a glimpse of her, a true peek beneath the hood, had begun to speculate upon her presence as well, not that she particularly cared. She was not the subject of news stories, to be sure, but nor was she entirely out of the woods - not in this day and time, this new age of social media. Perhaps it was even how her father had found her, how her crafty sire had discovered her exact location, as all it took was one photo, one good intentioned tweet. Still, however it had happened, Leah knew there was no going back, there was no escape from what was to come. No, she would have to stand, she would have to face it head on, and she would have to be a big girl and do it on her own. There was no sense in further involving Welkin, no point in costing him further lives....he had more to live for than her, anyway. He probably had friends, a family whom he'd adopted back in his home village that would have hated to see anything happen to him, or to hear of such a tragedy. It was a risk she could not take. Besides, what had she to live for? Her mother had abandoned her shortly after birth, striking a bargain with her father and then leaving her to be taunted, abused and tormented, used as his personal punching bag, a grueling chore at best, most especially when he grew angry. And it was so often that he grew angry. She had no brothers or sisters that she knew of, none that she had been reared with and alongside, anyway, and she damn sure wasn't going back to that hellish life that could barely be called existence with her father. Or her suitor, the male whom had offered to take her off fo her father's hands...for a price, of course. That was, in clearer, simpler terms, Leah was her father, the Senator's, payment of a debt to a man he owed but to whom he could not obtain the funds, and default was not an option. Was never an option. And so here Leah was, starving, afraid, on the run, surviving on a whim, taking to the winds whenever danger approached, whenever threatened with a presence too close. She did not ask for help, she did not give it freely. She did not trust, she did not save. She was no hero. She never had been, never would be. Never could be. No, she was just a broken little girl, a very broken little girl, who feared the consequences should she stop running, should she finally give in and accept her fate, embrace her destiny. And here Welkin was, asking her these questions, looking at her with those pitiful molten pools of brown called eyes - she could feel them staring into her, burning two holes wide open in her back - begging her to let him in, to permit him to help her, and to teach him their ways. A laughable thought, at best. A ludicrous notion, at worst. But still, it wasn't as if it would hurt to tell him the answers to at least one of his questions, after all, he deserved at least that much, she supposed. And so her voice, when she spoke, was quiet, just as quiet as ever, whisper soft, dark, and bitter. Terribly bitter, a dark and twisted thing if there ever was one, the poison, the hate, the sheer venom that had been pushed through her system from the very beginning of her time making itself known and evident as it dripped from the very words of tone inflicted from the delicate creature that was her voice, though one had to wonder: was the person even speaking really Leah? Was she truly this embittered, this hateful? Or was this the true form beneath all the layers all along, and now that the very mystery of her core was stripped away, there was nothing left? No point left to hide? No one knew for sure, and none could really tell, anyway. Not with her. "I found out by reading. Being that my father would go out daily to get drunk before he returned home at night to beat me into a senseless, bloody pulp, I had plenty of time on my hands during the daylight hours. So I would wait, and I would listen, though the latter part really didn't do much good - the walls of the basement were soundproof, anyway. But I learned when he wasn't in the house, and I learned his routine, his schedule. And I taught myself. So when he was gone, I would slip out of his chains, work my wrists out of the padlocks that bound me, and I would sneak upstairs to his private library. He never kept the basement doors locked - figured I was too chicken to sneak out, I guess. I found his private collection of books, tomes of all kinds. Since I had nothing better to do, I would pull whatever caught my eye of the shelf, and I would read until a few minutes before he was supposed to come home. Then I'd sneak back downstairs, chain myself back up, and pretend nothing had ever happened. It worked, for awhile." With that, she stood, swishing her tail behind her, dropping her hands to her sides, clenching her fists as she took a deep breath, black eyes raising to the ceiling. To the hatch. It was clear even to Welkin that she was thinking of leaving, of pulling out and taking off again. It was better this way, she reminded herself, though she truly did not want to go. He was different than anyone she'd ever met before, that was true, and it baffled her, puzzled her. Intrigued her. But she could not stay - such had never even been a choice. And so she moved to the ladder, gripped it firmly in one pale, slender hand, the fingers shaking so violently as she curled them about the soothing essence of the cool metal that she wondered if she'd even be able to haul herself up, much less maintain her grip, but still, she had to try. The worst she could do would be fall. And hit her head, sending her to the blessed realm of unconsciousness. She did not answer the question of death, instead turning her face away and murmuring, almost too quietly to be heard, "Goodbye, Welkin."

"Leah." He spoke firmly yet softly as he reached out and grabbed one of her shoulders and turned her back around so she faced him. "Dont go.. You wont last much longer on the run.. And im not about to let you fall in to your fathers hands or that creep he sold you to... Not after what ive seen... What horrors youve told me about them... I wouldnt be able to even stand myself if I stood by and let that happen..." He stared in to her eyes.. His brown observent pools seeming more alive and brighter than before. As if Welkin was never going to give up on her for some foolish reason. "He... Killed you twice..? How... did you loose two lives... by the age of 18 Leah..?" He asks more softly.. His voice trembled ever so slightly as he repressed some bad memorys back down not permiting them to rise up. Not yet atleast not untill Leah's problems were taken care of. And Welkin was not going to let them go on for much longer."Please... Your bearly able to stand... I cant let you just.... Walk out of here to get captured by them...Ive given one life already. And now ive found out i had 4 more i never knew and id gladly give them all to defend someone in need...Please dont fight me on this..." He seemed to plead softly that Leah didnt protest and demand to be let out to her death. Welkin didnt want to have to get more firm and perhaps even yell a little sense in to her. It wasnt his way, but if she was that stubborn he would do it to save her. "That monster wont lay another finger on you unless he takes all of my lives first." Welkin declared softly to her. Perhaps if she asked why he was doing all this, why he would defend those in need.. Perhaps he would tell her

She twisted away from him with a yelp while flinching back as his hand landed on her shoulder, instinct taking over as she whirled, tucking that arm by her side, bracing it with the other, almost as if...he'd hurt it? No, that couldn't be it, the touch was anything but harsh, more gentle and firm than anything. An old bruise then, whose fire like ache he'd reawakened with the startling nature of his grasp, though there was no possible way he could have known, not with the heavy coating that was her sweatshirt. When he'd touched her, though, there was no mistaking it - the shirt may have hidden how bony and thin she was, but it could not deny the sensation of touch, could not lie to Welkin's sense of feeling. He could easily make out the bones beneath her paper thin skin, could easily fathom where both clavicle and scapula, or collar bone and shoulder blade, was. It was then he would have known without a doubt, even if he were already aware to some extent, that he was far from wrong. In fact, he was more correct than he'd ever been - she couldn't last much longer out on her own and she knew it, but she refused to acknowledge it, or to ask for help, especially from strangers. She refused to put others with lives or families to lose at risk. Refused to trust another enough to even dream that help was available, or that any sort of aid could be freely given. And now, now she was backing away from him, ears flattening as a reflexive snarl escaped her lips, fangs flashing in the dim light of the failing day, further evidenced by the rapidly cooling inside of the tank. Now that the sun was going, almost gone, the air temperature would change drastically, and though it was bound to be a good degree difference in here than it was out there, it promised to be a rather chilly night. There was no way she'd make it through the night, not if she left now. Her tail, the thin black and white structure that had once been so fluffy and now appeared a bit dingy, as she more than desperately needed a bath, was tucked between the surface of her legs, and her form had gone into a defensive crouch. It took her only a second to realize what she had done, and she quickly looked away, biting her lower lip as she blinked her eyes closed with a shiver, inwardly scolding herself for reacting in such a manner, for displaying such abhorrent behavior in such a way. Sure, it had been instinct for her, but that was no excuse. Standing, she forced herself up and onto her feet, stepping forward as she dropped her arm and took the railing in hand once again, though she still refused to look at him, ears only dimly registering his words, that was, until she caught the word killed. Until she heard him ask about how she had died. Why she had already experienced the cold embrace of such darkness at an incredibly young age. She clenched her hand into a fist, so tight and hard that the sharp edge of her nails bit into the tender flesh of her palm, flattening her ears against her head as she held her silence, sucking in a deep breath until he mentioned it again. Clearly he wasn't going to give up, wasn't going to quit prying. The anger built inside of her, the shame, the fury...the guilt. The horror she'd let her father do something like this to her, that he'd made her into such a despicable being, such a horrendous person. And so the words came flying from her lips with an angry snap, her sullen gaze jerking up to him with a flash as she curled back her lips, tail rising to curve in upon itself once again, fangs gleaming in the setting light of the molten ball of fire that was the sun, eyes flashing with a certainty and pain, an anger and rage born of the purest hate. Hate not for Welkin, anger and rage that was not meant for him or any of his like, but for her sire. For her suitor. "You want to know how I died? Do you really? Better think long and hard on it, Welkin, because I promise you, it isn't a pretty story." She advanced on him now, hand sliding along the step like ladder of the railing, body tense, posture rigid. Though he was taller and larger than her by a long shot, she didn't seem intimidated by that now, no, in fact, she appeared far, far away. Almost as if she were reliving some private moment of her own most personal hell. Her voice grew softer, eyes glimmering with unshed tears, voice trembling with the sheer emotion of the retelling, the most feeling she'd ever let show through to...well, anyone. Her father certainly wouldn't have cared if she cried - in fact, she often had. She'd begged him, pleaded. "I was out in the library, reading like I always did when he was gone, because, hell, why not? It wasn't like I had anything else to do. It was like I could escape." Her tone grew darker, twisted around that last word as she spit it out like it was the most bitter lemon rind she'd ever tasted, almost as if she couldn't stand the thought of such a notion, such a thing that was supposed to have given her the miraculous knowledge of freedom. "But I messed up. Got lost in the book, stopped paying attention to time. Daddy was in the driveway before I noticed his footsteps. I panicked. Threw the book back onto the shelf, raced for the basement where I knew I'd be safe if only he didn't catch me." A pause. Her teeth clenched, ground together for a moment before she looked away, turning her back on him once again, crossing her arms over her chest, fingers digging through the shielding fabric of her shirt and into the fragile expanse of flesh beneath, the pain somewhat centering her to at least a grain of reality. "I wasn't fast enough. He saw me on the stairs, just as I was opening the door." Her voice shuddered, then trailed away, her eyes squeezing closed as she shivered, almost as if her body were remembering that terrible moment, heart fluttering against her chest as if in the most extreme of fear, and in that second, that instant so long ago, she was. She had been nearly mindless with it, but not so mindless that she hadn't pleaded. That she hadn't begged. Groveled at his feet, all so he would stop hurting her, so he would leave her alone or at least attempt to give her the love and affection she had always wanted, and that most would have felt she deserved. But it had all fallen on deaf ears, and over time, Leah had learned. Trust no one. Expect nothing from no one. Save for pain, anger, and hate. Expect to be tormented, to be beaten and bloodied, to be nearly killed or beaten to death on an almost daily basis. To want nothing more from life than the sweet embrace of permanent death. The next words were a mere whisper, barely even heard upon the wisp of breath that escaped her lips, so soft that Welkin had to strain to hear, even with the echoing nature of the tank walls around them, even given the way the metal seemed to swell and gather sound, to amplify it into the most audible of octaves. "I was nine." She looked at him then, lifted her head a fraction of an inch, and it was then he saw her crying. The glistening liquid of her tears drifting silently down her cheeks in lifeless streaks, held in for so long she'd almost forgotten what it was like to weep. To give into the sorrow of despair. To remember the suffering she'd endured for the majority if her entire young life. "You think you can stop him?" She snorted, sucking back the mucus and slime of snot so that it wouldn't drip or run so freely from her nose. "Please. You'll only get yourself killed and me caught. There are some things, and some people, Welkin that you just can't fix. This is one of them. My father is one of them. I am one of them. I was broken a long time ago, and no matter how many times you put back the pieces, no matter how many times you glue them back together, nothing's ever going to change that. So do yourself a favor, and let me go. Forget about me. Forget about my father. Forget about my suitor. Just forget you ever even met me. It's better for you that way. At least then you'll have a chance at life."

Welkin stayed quiet as she spoke. Listening to every detail.. About how she had gotten lost in the only safe and happiness she may have felt.. If she even felt so from reading... Then.. Hearing how old she was... How her father had beaten her to death at the age of nine years old.. His face twitched ever so slightly as he clenched his hands in to fists digging his nails in to his palms. Even as he tried to hide it there was no doubt Leah could see now more than ever Welkin was angry. Not at her.. No she had done nothing wrong. Nothing to deserve that pain. He was angry at her father. And for the first time in his life Welkin felt the desire to kill... He had been in a war and killed then only to protect his homeland and his crew, His fellow soldiers. It wasnt like he enjoyed it.. It was just something that had to be done.. A chore.. But now. Hearing how her father had done something so unforgiveable. It sparked something in Welkin that scared him inside. He wanted to not just kill her father but to draw it out. To make him suffer and pay for all the years he had hurt Leah... That rage however was quickly put out.. Or perhaps covered up for now as he saw the tears begin to flow and drop to the floor.. He relaxed his hands and calmed himself as he walked foward and wrapped leah up in to a hug. He was as gentle as he could be in fear of accidently hurting her frail body. He held her in his warm arms offering her a safe haven from the cold chill of the approaching night. He held her in silence for a few moments before speaking softly "Leah... I dont have a family waiting for me... i dont have friends who are expecting me home some time... I.... I have no one... Not any more atleast... Please... Im not letting you go on to get yourself killed by your fathers hands... by the suitors... or by yourself.... "He spoke that last bit not meaning Leah purposfully ending her life.. But the slow destruction of her body she had started by not taking care of herself properly. Not eating or bathing or sleeping... it was killing her... "I will fight for you with  my 4 lives left.. Im not letting them hurt you anymore... Ive had my chances at life... You never have had one... But once they are gone... you will... I promise you that.." He looked down in to her eyes as he gently wiped her tears away again comeing at her with open arms and again chipping away at her walls... Welkin..Really did care about her.. "Please dont go out there Leah... You wont make it through the night... And if you did they would find you before the week is over..."

She trembled in the face of his rage, shivering a bit pathetically while the anger gleamed there in his eyes, turning her eyes away as she closed them again, almost as if she expected to be hit for doing no more than what he had asked. He'd wished to know, and so she had told him. But Leah had not expected or anticipated this reaction from the male who had refused to leave her alone, who had stubbornly fought her for survival, who had wished to protect her from the atrocities that were once her home. That were once her life. She flinched when he went to draw her into a hug, pulled away, though the effort was feeble and the gesture essentially useless, for in this state, for in this condition, she was not strong enough to break free of his hold, nor was she powerful enough to escape the gentle embrace of his grip. As it was, she could do nothing to fight against the fact she was being pulled into the gentle warmth of his hug, and it was made crystal clear just how cold and frail she was as she shuddered within the secure embrace of his arms, unable to stop, or to slow the aching tenderness of her muscles as they trembled, each slight movement inciting pin pricks of pain along the surface of their overworked fibers. Though she had already rested, though she had already eaten that day, it was obvious she was far from recovered, and would not last more than a day on her own. In fact, if she left now, she'd be extremely lucky if she even made it through the night, as previously mentioned, or as hinted at before. Unable to break free of the strange embrace, Leah could do nothing other than slump listlessly against him, her breath catching in her throat as she angerily swiped at the tracks along her face, otherwise fair cheeks blushing with an embarrassed flush of tomato red, almost as if she had the fickle nature of the thing known only as a fever, even if she wasn't particularly sick and displayed no signs of illness. There was a soft pause, a slight hesitancy, as she listened to his words, ears flickering to and fro as they pricked and then twisted, sometimes even going so far as to flatten while he spoke, absorbing the moral of his story, the point of his existence, and why he was here. Why he was the way he was today. Still, even if he had none of those things, she couldn't permit him to put his lives on the line for her, could not allow him to sacrifice the essence of his own existence. She just couldn't. She had enough to feel guilty about already, had enough on her plate with all the abuse she had thus far suffered at the hands of her parent, or the man who was supposed to have been her parent. The sire who was supposed to have held her, nutured her. Comforted her when she was ill, eased her fears when she was panicked. The male who was supposed to have raised her. "You can't stop it." The words are quiet, soft, nearly matching his own in volume, though utterly hopeless, embodying the very depths of despair, almost as if Leah had already resigned herself to her fate, had given into the hard fact of life that was the abyss staring back up at her, watching so blankly with something that could have been compared to amusement at the feeble effort she had called a struggle. Gathering her strength, she pushed away from him, pulling back and away from the gentle hands that would have wiped away her tears, knowing he had to have some alterior motive, or so some voice whispered in her ear. They always did...no one was trustworthy, were they? But....but...Welkin didn't seem like that type. Didn't appear to want to abuse her, to take advantage of her. To put her powers to use...did he even know anything of her powers? The thought gave her a flash of anxiety. If he did, surely he would toss her to the side as soon as look at her - her abilities were odd and freaky, even by Wolven standards. Density shifting. Telekenesis. Seer like visions of the future...when she wasn't just hearing the voices of future conversations, that was. The flashing dagger birth mark upon her arm that sent another jolt of pain lancing through the tender structure of her fragile wrist, something she wrapped her good hand around as she struggled over to the door, skin crawling with an eerie sensation, head aching with a dizzy itch, the world tilting for a second while her legs shook, so much so that she staggered once, twice, caught herself on the side of the wall, splaying one hand across its cool metal surface, other reaching out to grip the ladder of rungs beside her, leaning forward ever so slightly, breath beginning to come in quiet rasps. No, she was not yet well, and her body literally could not take much more, but here she was, on the verge of having yet another of the draining, energy sucking things that were her visions. When they were visions. A small whimper of a groan escaped her lips as she dipped her head, resting the surface of her forehead against the soothing chill of the metal, gritting her teeth as she braced herself, trying her absolute best to prepare - this wasn't going to be anywhere remotely near pretty. Her words, when she speaks them, are forced between gritted teeth and a clenched jaw, the ears flattening against her head, the words slow, almost slurred, as if she has to concentrate immensely upon each one before she is able to utter it, her ability to think clearly, or coherently, greatly altered by the looming certainty of her power, the grim reality that was going to be her second sight. "Welkin...you don't understand. It...doesn't...," she flinched, let out a soft growl, muscles bunching beneath her shoulders as she tightened her grip upon the rung, resisted the urge to sink in her nails and drag them down the side of the tank to create a chalk board effect, knowing it would pain Welkin just as fiercely as it would her own ears, and the last thing she needed as for either of her precious hearing organs to bleed. She'd done enough of that already here lately. "matter...anymore...I'm finished anyway." With that, her legs buckled, and she crashed down onto the floor in a rather ungraceful heap, grip becoming limp and slack as she toppled over and backwards, a strangely muffled sound escaping the pinnacle of her lips as she was in the peak of her fall. It was obvious she wasn't going to catch herself by that point, and that she was most likely going to land in some position that would hurt herself, but if Welkin could have seen her face, if he could have witnessed the dull, glossy appearance of her eyes, he might have known better than to touch her, or to break the relative trance she had now found herself in, slipping deeper and deeper into its manipulative embrace with each passing second, further encompassed in a reality that was not her own and engulfed in a future that to the young she-wolf, would have seemed rather bleak, no matter the adjustment, no matter how drastic the change in circumstance.

Welkin lunged foward to try to catch her but only suceeded in running face first in to the wall of the tank nearly breaking his nose in the effort to catch Leah. he stumbled back with a whine of pain and was thankful he didnt get a nosebleed from smacking into the wall. He deopped to his knees infront of leah and saw her eyes in a trance like state.. He went to touch her but drew his hand back sensing he shouldnt.. Unless whatever was happening would hurt her... if she started to scream or cry out he would wake her out of it. But for now he would let her stay in this trance which he surely knew must have been from her powers somehow. He knelt there waiting for her to wake and only uttered a reply to her last statement "Even if you have given up on yourself im not going to Leah... Your not finished yet... Your still here on this earth and I dont care how long it will take to piece you back together... Im never going to give up..." Welkin himself didnt know why he had become so... Attached to Leah. This surely was above and beyond what he would normally do for someone in need... But Leah it was different... Perhaps it was how broken she was that drew him closer to her. With a desire to fix and peice her back together and to give her a happy life.. Perhaps Welkin even had feelings for Leah. It was true whenever he was around her he had the urge just to wrap her up in a hug and comfort her yet only did so when she cried out of respect for her personal space and out of not wanting her to snap at him. He didnt even know if she liked him or not and knew dispite what she said about not wanting his help.. Deep down a part of her had to be begging for it.. Praying for help.. For welkin to keep her safe. He sat there and waited for her to wake.

Leah hit the floor with a dull thud, surely bruising her frail and too thin body as it was, or reawakening those old bruises that littered her form, breath quick, ears flicking. Her knees where bent at an awkward angle, one hand was over her abdomen, what was left of her abdomen, anyway, the other up by her shoulder and thrust out to the side, fingers half curled in on themselves, almost as if she were holding something... a dagger perhaps? Or perchance was it another's hand? The long blue locks that were her hair drifted aimlessly over her skinny shoulders, flying every which way, her body lay in a rather twisted position upon her back. The slender white line that was her lips parted to move and whisper some soundless sentiment, though it wasn't clear what it was, and her voice was mute, almost as if her vocal chords had been shut off, as if someone had flicked a switch on a wall or pressed the power button upon the t.v. The sight she saw wasn't as horrid as some that had come ot her attention recently, but it wasn't exactly a picnic, either. In it, she and Welkin were side by side, fighting desperately to make it out of some godforsaken place and some ill fated battle, she was sure, though she couldn't quite tell was what was going on...that part was still a tish hazy to her, and she sensed inwardly that it was not yet time for her to know this particular little fact, this instantanous little feature - not just yet. But it wasn't for training, or the purpose of just attempting to see what it was they could do when they worked together, that much she knew. The scent of blood was thick in the air, and her heart was pounding against her chest, hammering against the frailty of her ribcage, a wound burning in her side, a gash or two weeping here or there. She was stronger here, more powerful at this particular point in time, this snapshot of an instance in the continuing flow of the stream, but not at her full peak, and she was beginning to tire. Yet she was not alone...strangely, she could feel the presence of others about her, and not just Welkin, though their forms were unknown to her, as were their personalities and bodies, and Welkin was closest to her, Welkin was the one at her flank, supporting her, providing some sort of back up, standing rigidly and unwaveringly by her side. It was...enlightening? No, that wasn't the word. Relieving? Perhaps, in a sense, but that didn't quite seem to fit the situation either. She knew not what sentiment she was looking for, could not put the word into use as she could not quite recall it, but it was...nice...not having to rely upon herself and only herself, to not have to struggle and fight, to sweat blood and shed tears by herself. Still, it wasn't what she wanted, especially not for Welkin. She didn't want to draw another into her battles. She didn't want to burden them with her presence. However, as it was made abundantly clear to her as she returned to the real world with a gasp and a jolt, jerking upright into a wild sitting position, eyes wild and unfocused for a moment before settling upon her surroundings, limbs trembling with the strain of holding herself upright, scents and smells, sights and sounds bombarding her, that it was no longer a choice of hers in the matter, and that no matter what she did, despite whatever course she might opt to take, Leah was not going to get her initial way, when all was said and done. Unknowingly, she'd reached out with a hand when she'd flailed so drastically in that desperate instant when she was so eager to be up, so keen on bringing herself upright, and unwittingly grasped the first thing she had come into contact with, cold appendages that were her piano like fingers wrapping tightly about the warmth that was Welkin's own hand, her grip loosening only slightly as she shook out her hair in a vain effort to clear her dizzying head, though the skull beneath her flesh pounded with an immense, though dully throbbing ache, of a pain. With a soft groan, Leah lifted her free hand to her face, tenderly rubbing one spot above an eye, pressing the heel of her palm and upper portion of her wrist into the gentle slope of the socket in some sort of attempt to steady herself, sucking in a hiss of breath as the slice of agony traveled deeper into her brain, reminding her once again of the shape she was in. She'd rested earlier, yes, but it hadn't been nearly enough. Not after she'd been up on her feet for so long anyway, and certainly not after the apparently grueling tax of her visions. Visions that seemed to come more and more frequently here as of late. Visions she did not ask for, scenes the young girl did not particularly want. She didn't speak, didn't cry, merely sat quietly in the suddenly tense and straining silence, waiting to see who would be the first to break it, and what kind of firing accusations the questions would be. What kind of witch Welkin would think she'd be. She hadn't heard his earlier sentiment and reply of her response, knew not that he was going to be so faithful and loyal, and as muddled as her head felt, even if she had, she wouldn't know what to make of it. She didn't even really know what to make of herself, not yet. Not now. She wished to stand, didn't try it. Knew it was a bad idea, as she could feel the miniscule twitching in her muscles, could sense the fatigue just lurking there underneath the surface, lingering in the back of her mind, slowing her reflexes and thought processes. Or perhaps that was the cold? She wasn't sure, didn't really have the energy to figure it out. Upon a brief instant's reflect, even found she didn't really care. it wasn't like she could just wave a magic wand and fix it. Couldn't just murmur some incantation and be done with it all, just end the problem and the dilemma that was her existence. The unending tragedy that was her life.

Welkin did not snap at her or fire off accuseing questions of black magic or other foolish things. He simpally sat there and smiles a bit holding on to her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze letting her know she was okay. He leaned in and hugged her again and repeated what he said before... "You might have given up on yourself but i havent.. I had my chance at a happy life.. Now its your turn to have a chance Leah" He spoke softly and looked in to her eyes. It was almost as if Welkin wanted to tell her something.. Something he felt was important yet.. He seemed heasitant.. almost afraid to.. instead he just held her close as she slowly stopped shaking "Im not going to let you give up... im not letting you go.." He gently picked her up. Much more gently then Matt had when he carried her. It felt to her like she was floating on clouds. Not the uncomfortable sensation of being taken away... He set her down on the makeshift bedding he had and tucked her in with the covers and blankets he had "Please.. Get some rest okay..? Your.. powers seem to drain the little energy youy had gained back.. Dont worry no one will get in here.. And i wont go anywhere.. Please try to get some rest okay?" He spoke softly to her. being so kind and caring yet again. And dispite what she wanted to do... That she wanted to leave still perhaps.. Her body would not allow it and she was surely half asleep by now. And for the first time in a long time she would be able to get some peacefull sleep. Noone would interupt her and Welkin would watch over her to make sure she would be safe. By the time she would wake he would be cooking a meal perhaps. Somethin for her to eat to gain back the needed strength and energy to even walk and run. Right now Leah was pushed to the point where she couldnt even walk well.

Leah blinked open that one eye when he squeezed her hand, flicking an ear as the seeking black orb found his face, breath slightly catching her throat as he pulled her close, murmuring the pretty sentiment once again where she could now hear, and though she wished desperately to pull away, to push him back and shun any and all contact, Leah found she could not. She was too weak, her muscles giving out, even going so far as to slacken as he held her, the otherwise tense posture of her body relaxing as he warmed her, though she was silent - she knew not what to say. Had no clue, no reference, as to just how she was supposed to respond. All her life she'd been mistreated. Abused. Taken advantage of and beaten, shown only the worst side of both Wolven and humanity, demonstrated as nothing more than a mere plaything whose sole purpose was to be broken. Severely, if her father were to have his way, and if his methods were to be believed. That Welkin would be so kind to her, that he would speak so freely to her in the first place, or so accepting of not only her snappy nature but the strangeness that were her powers as well...in all honesty, it was baffling. Just as the whole mystery of Welkin, at least to her, seemed to be. She couldn't figure out his alterior motive, couldn't fathom just why he was doing this. It wasn't for the usual reasons, that was for sure, and he seemed to want nothing but the possibility of friendship, and perhaps what she supposed might have been the joy of seeing her renewed, her strength returned and her problems solved, as a reward. Strange indeed, at least to her, but then, she had been raised in a different aura, a different time. A varying household, where values were no more and morals were out of the window, despite whatever her senator of a father might have otherwise to say, especially when running for re-election and building upon his already steady campaign. But enough of that, Welkin had heard enough about him for one day. The blue haired girl could not help but shudder as she recalled that instant, that single second where she had witnessed the sole emotion of anger and hate upon Welkin's otherwise gentle face, two emotions that seemed so in contrast to the soft spoken aid of a helpful male he now appeared to be. Perhaps he had just been angry over the tale of her sire's cold blooded murder regarding his daughter? Or it could have been the simple fact of her age, and that he was her father. A man to be trusted, to be looked up to. A man to have raised her, or whom was supposed to. None of which he'd actually come through for or performed for Leah, having nothing more than a cold attitude towards one of the only beings he had left of flesh and blood, treating her as no more than a mere piece of property to be done with as he pleased, or to be treated as he must. Still, it was no excuse for the man, and given the chance, Leah would have escaped all over again, would have fled his horrid clutches as many times and for as long as she was able, so long as she was permitted to retain a bit of life, taste just even the smallest bit of freedom. If one could call what she really had now freedom. Leah did, for it was all she had ever known, despite the fact that she seemed to be on the run, and had been fleeing from the smallest sign of danger, the slightest indication of his vile presence, ever since that fateful night, but enough was enough of that. Right now she could not think clearly, could not focus or comprehend as much as she should be - partly because of her fatigue, and partly because of the drain that had been imposed on her powers, coupled with the fact that she only understood so much of this world, especially when it came to the foreign territory that was the display of her emotions or the interpretation of those that were not her own, particularly those of the people around her. While she sensed that Welkin was not telling her everything, she did not ask, did not question, nor did she push and pry, merely permitting him to hold her, for once, and to give her the affection she had for so long craved, but had never had the opportunity to experience or enjoy - it wasn't like she could possibly move or resist him much longer anyway. Slowly, slowly, her body stopped shaking, her form relaxing, reclining ever more fully against her own, until the gentle embrace was all that she knew, was all that she felt, in that moment, that she had ever known, the only experience she'd ever been crafted with tenderness, the hand that had formerly been pressed so securely to the slight area above her eye slipping down so that it was held into place along her abdomen by his own, her slender head lying almost completely along the expansive realm of his ample yet broad chest. A soft breath taught her his scent, or, rather, reinforced it, as she had learned it long ago, in those instances when they had first met, and the slight movement of her breathing scraped her cheek against the softening starch held within his fabric, ears flicking ever more as they caught flickering glimpses of his heartbeat, a soothing sound that lulled her, dulled her senses, and sent her drifting at least half way into sleep. Realizing he'd halted in speaking, she mumbled something that sounded vaguely sarcastic, if one could make it past the slurring that accompanied her words, born no doubt, from her weary nature, the exhaustion having caught up with her once again, it would seem, dimming the bitter bite that normally accompanied such sentiments. "It's your funeral...or funerals," she muttered, feeling him begin to pick her up, though this time, unlike the last, she did not startle, merely attempted to lift her head and glance around to make sure she wasn't going to hit anything, that her gangly form of a body was tucked adequately away within the firm hold of his grasp, but her head was heavy...so heavy. To weighty for her to lift, that was for sure. So she settled for lying there within his firm embrace once more, content for once to let him worry about it. She trusted him enough not to run her into a wall or support beam at least. Provided tanks had support beams, that is. She wasn't sure if they did or didn't - she hadn't seen any, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. The air around her was spacy, gentle and floating, and she found, for once, that she didn't mind it - as long as she didn't feel helpless or vulnearble, as she had in Matt's well intentioned arms, she could tolerate the aid, but she despised having the sensation that she was not in control. This ride, however was, brief, and the next thing she knew, she was no longer in Welkin's arms, but tucked into the security of the makeshift bed, the warmth and heat of the incredibly soft blankets placed just beneath her, snugging her securely into the improvised mattress, and the inexplicabale weight that was her head propped with the tenderest of pillows. The sliding realm that was her vision had already blurred, which would make sense considering her eyelids were at half mast, but with a great deal of effort, Leah managed to blink them, and wrench them open at least one last time, just long enough to register the sensation of his fingers running through her hair, pushing back her bangs and smoothing the tangled locks that were her hair, one ear wisking into the shelter of such luscious locks, the other swiveling forward to catch the whispered sentiments upon his breath, though she felt as if her tongue was tied - she found it nearly impossible to reply, and her sluggish mind refused to form some kind of answer, even a rough draft of some tart retort that she could possibly fling his way. Or grace the ever listening presence of his ears with, to bring some kind of last ditch effort smile to those otherwise all to solemn and particularly focused visage of features, the last glimpse of life she would ever see for this night, as she drifted almost wordlessly into the realms of a dark and dreamless sleep, for once feeling safe and secure, a new sensation she had never experienced before, and for the first time in her young life, allowed to recuperate and rest in the most healing of silences, to gain the most of this time where she was to rebuild her strength.

Welkin smiles and sat down on the makeshift bedding next to her. He began to rub her back slowly and carefully. Not hard enough to wake her but enough to cause her to feel it. Welkin's own hands squeezed and pressed down on her back his fingers taking away all the built up stress she had. All the physical pain she may have been carrying letting her body restart. Letting it all fade away because of his skilled hands. It was odd a soldier like Welkin had the skills to give a massage identical to one given by a professional. Welkin kept this up for about an hour being respectful not daring to touch certain areas. Only her back and her legs he gave this attention to massageing all the stress from being on the run out of her. He knew when she would wake she would perhaps question why she felt so relaxed. Perhaps she would know Welkin had given her a massage. Or perhaps she could just think it was the well needed rest. Welkin looked down at Leah His light brown eyes appearing golden like two pools of honey from the candle light inside the tank. It was cold out and he was glad Leah was here inside his warm "home" Welkin had hoped Leah hadnt become fearful of him, thinking the few seconds of pure rage he felt may have been for her. Welkin wasnt mad at Leah, she hadnt done anything wrong he was angry at her father. But he wouldnt think of that now. Welkin lied down next to Leah and got some rest as well. He woke first and to his surprise he felt someone holding on to him. He turned his head to the side and saw Leah had entangled her arms around him and had snuggled up to him like a child would to one of their stuffed animals. Welkin knew if he moved he would wake her up but had no idea what he should do. He waited a bit hoping she would wake on her own so he didnt disterb her by waking her early.

Leah was vaguely aware of being placed upon her side and the gentle nuance of Welkin's fingers as he pressed firmly into her back and shoulders, worked his way down and along her legs, soothing the fatigued ache that was her muscles, easing the tension from the otherwise knotted lean fibers whose taut nature was evident and obvious, even when gazing at Leah from afar. She did not stir, nor did she make a sound to contrary, however, merely continued to sleep on, feeling the massive wall that was her body beginning to sink deeper into the makeshift mattress that Welkin had constructed here as she was further relaxed, an ear flicking back in his direction here and there to pick up the soft sounds of comfort he made, whispered words of sweet nothings, really, just a soothing tone of voice that might ease her fears if she awoke. But Welkin need not have feared in that regard, need not have concerned himself with that particular aspect: Leah was far to exhausted and weary to drag herself back up from the comforting murky blackness of the depths merely to snap at him while the strange male was attempting to help her. Her hands were resting lightly in front of her face with the way she was positioned, and her legs over top one another as she splayed about on her side, tucked snugly down into the heated warmth of the blankets, her tail entangled within the wool like fibers almost hopelessly, the long blue knots that were the tangled tresses of her hair billowed out around the structure of her slender shoulders and softly defined features sort of like a halo, the peaceful expression on her rather delicate looking face was a rarity, and the likes of which upon her mien, to date, had never before been seen, at least, that was, not until she was given this sanctuary, not until Welkin had gifted her with this unknown area where she could recuperate and rest, where she could regain at least a portion or bit of her energy. Her breathing was quiet and soft, so difficult to hear, in fact, that perhaps it had given Welkin a minature heart attack as he ceased to hear these sounds, until he would have looked and observed the steady rise and fall of her chest, or placed a light hand in front of her face and nose to test whether or not he would feel the gentle exhale of her lungs, upon which he would find that he did before slumping back with a weary, yet relieved sigh. At this point would be when he decided he might like to lie down for a good bit himself, but not before he would view Leah doing something rather childish and not altogether unembarassing as she slept, something that most often younger offspring did, though adults and teenagers might still have the habit of doing such too, however oblivious they would be to the feature once they woke, and however deeply they would have denied the existence of such a fact should one ever attempt to enlighten them or show them proof of their ways. Such would have been the case with Leah, should she have been informed of such, but as it was to date, none had ever seen her sleep so soundly or quietly, none had ever witnessed her lie so peacefully. Usually she was quite restless and violent when she did lie down, and so the few winks she did manage to catch never left her feeling well rested, though this was no surprise, considering where she came from, or how she had been raised. Back home, she would have been on alert evermore for fear of her father, even while dreaming some part of her would have always been listening for the heavy tread of his dreaded footsteps, knowing what horrid punishment was to come, what terrible fate was to befall her next. All because he wanted to. All because he felt like it. But not here. Not now. No, now, Leah was sleeping soundly, so soundly, in fact, that her thumb had been placed in her mouth, and she was currently sucking on it, albeit silently, never making nary a noise or even the slightest octaves of sound, no indication that she was doing such unless one happened to visably see or witness it, as Welkin was so lucky enough in that instant to do. Rather than fill his throat with bile at the thought, however, due to the fact that such a habit seemed to betray a childish nature and undeveloped mental state, Welkin would have more than likely viewed such as cute, rather, he would have found such a trait and habit adorable, perhaps even all the more endearing. The soft embrace of the male as he lie down beside her only caused the briefest of movements, and neither was none the wiser until he happened to awake, finding Leah coiled about him like a small child might clutch a teddy bear, or perhaps like a kid holding tightly to a stuffed animal, her face buried in the comforting reek of his shirt and abdomen, ears pressing ever so slightly up against his chest, fingers curled into the downy like cotton of his shirt, though it was clear Leah herself had no idea she was even doing this, that she was even performing such a feat, employing her limbs in such an action. Though he tried not to move so he would not disturb or wake her, he could not help but lift up ever so slightly in that first instant of consciousness, that first snapshot of waking, and thus was enough to cause her to stir with a mumbled something of a murmur, still clearly out of it, and none to coherent, not at this early hour. She blinked open one of her brilliant black eyes, pricking one ear up as she partially lifted her head with a soft yawn, jaws stretching in a half hearted gesture as she did so, skull moving in only the slightest of shakes, though it never fully lifted from the recesses of his own body, nor did she bring her face or vision more than halfway out of where she had initially buried herself so entrappingly tightly against him. A small sliver of daylight was peeping through the narrow tank window, dim and filtered as it was, to a Wolven's eyes, it was more than enough to illuminate the cramped space of their current surroundings, and with a prompt snort of derisive nature, Leah muttered a slurred, "Nope, no daylight yet," and promptly flipped back on her other side before by all appearances, drifting off back to sleep. Or tried to, anyway, even going so far as to pull the only pillow provided over the top of her head and snuggling down into the continued warmth of the blankets, curling herself into a smaller ball of bony proportion and quiet, tender breathing, apparently still worn out from not only her adventures, but the use of her quizzical abilities, as well. This would, however, give Welkin time to rise and prepare himself for the day, perhaps clean up a bit, and, if he would have so liked, to fix himself a meal.

Welkin smiles and was able to sit up and clean a bit. He did so quietly doing things that wouldnt make noise such as dusting or cleaning some stuff up. He hopped in to the lower level of the tank to change in to clean clothes. And to wash off the blood that may still be on his stomach where he wass shot and stabbed. Finnaly dressed ina white teeshirt and shorts he began to cook breakfast. The smell of bacon filled the whole tank and didnt give away their position thanks to the airtight hatch on the top and one way air vents providing fresh air while not letting out any scents. The smell surely would awaken Leah soon with a strong hunger. Welkin had hoped she would enjoy this breakfast and would indeed eat something before being up for too long. She needed plenty of food to get back to a healthy weight as right now Leah must have been far underweight and malnurished. Although Bacon and eggs were not the most healthy thing it would help Leah to get some energy for the day.

He walked over to her who was still lieing in bed and sat down next to her. "Leah.. Its breakfast time" He spoke so softly wanting to wake her but not really as he wanted her to rest.. He was worried... Worried she wouldnt get enough sleep. But she could always nap after eating. Welkin smiles as she began to wake up and looked at him. He knelt down and set a plate next to her. It had bacon scrambled eggs and potatoes. She noticed she had a bit more then what Welkin gave to himself. "I made us some breakfast. I didnt know how you liked your eggs so.. I made scrambled." He smiles a bit curious as to what she even was fed when she was with her father.

Leah sighed as she blinked open her eyes once more, though she did not rise, nor did she pull the pillow off of her head, instead pulling the soft divinity of the blankets up more tightly about her shoulders, tucking herself more tightly in upon her slender form, if that were possible, and removing her thumb from her mouth with a grimace. She hadn't been aware she did that. The smell of bacon frying and eggs cooking filled her nostrils, setting her saliva glands afire with an eager anticipation, but still, Leah did not rise. She didn't really feel like it at this point, would rather remain hidden under the covers for all eternity if she could; where she was safe, where she was warm. The air inside the tank was changing, she could tell, it was heating up with the rising temperature, as the tank's air system could only compensate for so much, and then there was the heat from the small stove like apparatus upon which Welkin was cooking on. Was it something called a hot plate? Leah couldn't be entirely sure, having spent her entire life locked up in a basement, she wasn't exactly up to date on most modern technology, though she'd read about the majority of it in how to books. She just hadn't had the chance or ability, the opportunity, to work with it. She'd never dared to mess with any of the appliances or food in the house - she knew that her father would be aware the second something was moved a fraction of an inch or anything happened to come up missing. Which would have resulted in punishment, as Leah had already described to Welkin when he'd asked about how she had died. A shiver passed through her at the memory - it wasn't something she liked to consider, or a particularly happy time she cared to recall. Instead, she focused on happier things, like what in the world it was that Welkin was over there cooking. It smelled delectable, and Leah listened to her stomach quietly growl. Huh. She was surprised tat it wasn't roaring in famished anger, she was so hungry. Still, she would wait. She was still sleepy, felt like she could possibly take what one might call a nap later on in the day, but for now, she was up, and she would remain awake. At least until she had ate. She listened quietly, too timid to throw back the blankets on her own, flicking the pretty blue sky like coloring of her ears back against the recesses of her skull, keeping track of her environment the hard way, catching the echoing nuances of Welkin's footsteps as he made his way over to her. But she must have been dozing, for the next thing Leah knew she was opening her eyes back up, blinking sleep and grime from them once more as she lifted a delicate hand, rubbing them blearly, having vaguely felt the dip in the mattress at his added weight as he sat, loosening the soothed fibers of the muscles that had reflexively tensed as his hand landed lightly on her shoulder, giving her a gentle, air light shake, voice soft and calming as he called her name. "Hmph," she muttered, resisting the urge to flip back over onto her stomach and bury herself ever deeper into the safefty and miraculous realm that was the pillows, to burrow more deeply into the heated warmth of the blankets. But her stomach was calling to her, and the empty, caved in structure was pointedly reminding her of the need for food, or at least, the requirement of some type or form of nourishment. So she lifted her head, hefted herself up into a sitting position, and proceeded to lazily stretch before lightly plucking the plate onto her lap, cocking her head at its contents, nose wrinkling at the barrage of smells. His in particular stuck out to her, and she realized it clung to her more tightly than it should, even considering how he'd held her last night, leaving her to only assume that she must have slept beside him. Bits of memory flickered in her mind about being nestled next to something warm and large, of snuggling close and curling her fingers into the soft definition that was his clothes, and she flicked an ear, feeling a bit embarrassed at having shown such vulnerability and seeking such clingy attention. Jeez, what was she, some lost little puppy who attached herself to the first person she had seen now? Not likely. Nick was the first human she'd actually come into more than just brief and glancing contact with, and she wasn't found clinging to him. But, still, she shouldn't have gotten so close, nor should she be giving him the wrong impression. If there was a wrong impression. She wasn't sure, didn't have enough experience in that department to go off on such things. What she did know was that this...well, whatever it was, it was edible, and it was not the scraps her father had given her, smelled particularly amazing, and her body desperately needed something with which to fuel itself, least she begin to lose even more of her already famished looking muscle mass. "Don't know what eggs are," she blandly informed him, raising a brow in his direction as he spoke. Scrambled, boiled, fried. It mattered not to her, as she wasn't really picky. Anything was better than the half eaten garbage her father had given her over the years, or what she had been forced to steal or pick from while on the streets. "Dad wasn't exactly the cooking type. At least not for me." To be as hungry as she was, and as emaciated as she no doubt appeared, she surprisingly did not wolf down the food as she had originally desired - no, to do that would only serve to upset her already fragile stomach, and quite possibly reawaken the headache that she already felt lingering in the back of one eye, a side effect, no doubt, from her seer like powers. Instead, she ate rather daintily, slowly, blowing upon the morsels to cool them appropriately before daring to stick them in her mouth, having no desire to burn her tongue, and using the utensils she'd been given...or trying to anyway. She was a bit uncoordinated with them, and dropped her fork a couple of times as she struggled to wrap her long, spindly like trembling fingers about the silver surface of its handle, but she managed, for the most part, tucking her tail over her leg and into her lap as she waited in expectant silence, knowing that the time was drawing nigh for Welkin to again speak.

Welkin however didnt speak. He had also began to eat and waited untill after he had eaten a few bites. "Did you sleep well?" He asks his brown eyes falling on to Leah yet again as he glanced over to her as she ate. He let her take as long as she wanted not wanting to rush her or stop her from eating, that and he also was worried his constant blabbering about anything and everything was getting on Leah's nerves. Welkin leaned over and pressed one of the switches on the tank which started a small box like contraption which was nearly completely silent. Leah felt the air slowly go back down to a cool and comfortable level. Welkin obviously wanted to speak more but he would hold back talking for now and let Leah enjoy her breakfast which he hoped she would enjoy. It had to be better than scraps.. Or whatever the hell her father fed her when she was trapped.. Welkin watched her reactions after the first few bites and couldnt help but let his tail wag a bit seeing she perhaps liked his cooking. He didnt speak of her holding on to him and sucking her thumb as he knew it would embarrase her more than he thought would be okay. Instead he would let her speak of it if she wished. He finished his meal before she had and set his plate aside in the sink then sat back down as Leah finished off the rest of her breakfast. "Did you like it?" He asks curiously as he took her empty plate to the sink as well then comeing back sitting right back down in the same spot he had before letting Leah wake up a bit more before bombarding her with any more questions he had. Welkin.. Was worried however.. Once Leah had the strenght to leave.. Which wasnt yet but would be in a few days.. Would she? Welkin's ears lowered slightly at the thought of it.. He couldnt use her physcial state as leverage for a reason for her to stay then. It worried him as he wanted to make sure she wouldnt be hurt or captured. His tail curled around his side and sat in his lap.