antivanleather | Fourth Step - back from that ledge my friend, you could cut ties with all the lies that [action]

[He'd been living in...a state of frustration the past month. Of denial. But with a week and some spent in the wilderness in tail end of winter Zevran sought to reconnect with the cold hollow that the Crows instilled in him at an early age, one that time with the Warden and several months here had worn away. Filled with food and restful sleep and pleasurable company. With sentiment. It was not something he could afford, that sentiment, that desire for companionship beyond the odd body in his bed or verbal spar. To want comrades was something a Crow did not do, and as much as he wasn't pleased by the guild wanting him dead back home he was still very much one of them. Old habits died hard after all.

Hunting, tracking, setting a spartan camp and keeping mobile- avoiding all others that might have been hunting, forsaking the company of his fellow villagers did little more than weigh upon the elf and leave him far too much time to think over the events leading up to and just after that odd valentine's shift. How he'd handled it, or rather hadn't. The conversation he'd had with Isaac just before leaving, or rather the argument. The time between then and now did little to sooth the ire it'd caused. He'd lost something there.

He didn't know he cared enough to get it back.]

[Days away and he'd intended to remain so for awhile longer but the fall of snow urges him back to the village. Bundled along with his camping gear on his back are furs that need to be trimmed and roots, dried meat and bundles of flesh from what animals he'd trapped and butchered while hunting. It's a fairly sizable stash of hunting loot if he did say so himself, and he's far too much to keep to himself. Perhaps after he cleans up he'll offer the finished furs or bits of wrapped meat to his neighbors, or any that stop him along his path. He waves his way in from the south, past the battle dome and up through the plaza to stop in the grocery store for a few vegetables, perhaps a bottle of wine to go with the meat he's still carrying, and then he makes his way back to community house 7.

The normally boisterous and cheerful elf is weary and quiet, without any quick smile or laugh to crack at those he passes. His leathers are grubby from time in the woods, his boots scuffed, his hair a loosely braided mess. He'll make conversation if someone engages him, and he will be polite enough, perhaps even offer a cutlet of venison or dirty joke if the company is pleasant.]

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[Small, subtle things can mean the world. Anyone else would have felt that nudge and thought nothing of it. But in their silent language of gestures, twisted lips and odd brush of contact it meant everything. That validation. That confirmation that she knows- and that she feels the same. It's a weight off his shoulders and it makes the rest of the walk to her home that much easier.]

I had none. Well. None that I trusted for long- though. [His mind goes to green eyes and blood red hair and a silvered laugh for a moment, but that is a story for another day. He sets that shade aside.] I suppose the woman that spared my life not long before I arrived in this village might count.

[She nods a little, glancing up at him as she does. It's hard to recognize friendship for what it is when you're much more used to being alone. Not when it's hard not to wonder what they want of you still. Or how you can minimize what you might owe them in the end. Things you're not supposed to wonder of friends. Things you just can't help.]

I still don't get it sometimes. All the friends I have here. Why they'd want to be my friend.

[There are few she'll admit this to. But Zevran, she thinks, would understand.]

It does seem quite strange, does it not? Here we are with our respective bloody pasts and not too cheerful personality. Well. You with the less than sunny demeanor which is such a shame for you've such a lovely smile when you are feeling kind. I with my rather clownish ways of keeping distant- and they choose to endure or look past that or simply tolerate us until they find it endearing.

Here I had always thought that such an understanding could only come after days upon days of vigorous lovemaking.

[She realizes how right he is almost halfway through his response. And he describes it so well. Better, she thinks, than she ever could. For some reason, these people look past everything they've done. And they look past those attempts to push them away.

She keeps nodding after every sentence. Up until, that is, his very last one. And then she laughs a little nervously and shakes her head.] I wouldn't know. Not that part of it.

Were it not for the fact I look upon you as I might a sibling, I would be more than happy to help with that. [That had come from nowhere- and yet? It is entirely true. He stalls a moment midstep wrapping his head around that, prepared to backtrack, before nodding in confirmation.] It is...an odd feeling, but a good one.

[Her brows knit together in confusion when he stops walking for a moment. There's nothing in front of them to make him pause. She hasn't heard anything out of the normal, either. That it might be his own words doesn't quite hit her until he speaks again.]

Oh. [She's not certain if she feels the same way. He's a friend, certainly, but a sibling? She's only ever had one sibling. She doesn't ever want another one. Not when she considers how much her existence ultimately cost Prim.] I... that's okay. I don't know. I mean, I've only ever... with Peeta.

[It's the combination of an already awkward subject with uncomfortable memories of her sister that makes her stumble some. Katniss shakes her head.] I don't think I'd know how. With anyone. I- I've only ever kissed three boys. And more... having sex with more than Peeta, that'd make me fast wouldn't it?

You are speaking to an elf that was raised by whores, Katniss. My stance on sex is quite different from most and as you well know, I have no shame. At all.

[He ruffles her hair a bit to ease the tension, continuing down the path that would lead to her home.]

While it is not something I believe in- if you find someone else to love, and that loves you honestly? So long as that love is present it ought to be fine. That seems to be the more normal take on such things. To my mind if it feels good and you will not be upset with yourself for some reason afterward- why not?

[She blushes a little as she remembers some of those instances in which he did indeed have no shame. In particular, one of those posts he had made to the network at large came to mind. And all of the suggestions he had given her as how to please Peeta.

But the blush, at least, isn't as bad as it once might have been. She's working on it. Working on not being that pure and prudish girl she once was. Still, it's far from easy. And she walks silently for a few paces as she thinks of how to reply.]

Because... there were women in District 12. From the Seam, mostly. They would sell their bodies to the head Peacekeeper in exchange for food or a little extra coin. I hated that. I hated seeing that that was the only way they could provide for their families. And that Cray took full advantage of that. When my father died, before Peeta reminded me that I could harvest in the woods and hunt like my dad did, I thought... [She shudders a little, wrapping her arms around her body at the memories of that bleak time.] I was afraid I might grow up to be one of those women. As soon as I hit fifteen. I really didn't want that. I didn't want anything to do with sex or love or families.

You do what you must in order to survive. It changes the way you look at things, if you have to sell the illusion of affection. It is not something that you can take back either. The business is a sad, cruel one, especially when they are stuck in the position that your people were, but they did what they must. They can wallow in the shame of it or own it in order to remain sane.

[Zev shrugs, tucking her close to his side for a moment to make up for the conversation.]

And it found you all the same, yes?

[She sighed as she rested her head against his chest for a second, taking advantage of the closeness. It's nice to be held like this as they walk. Impractical maybe, but nice.

And reassuring. Reassuring that maybe, just maybe, he's not going to abandon her no matter what she tells him. It's a freedom she hasn't had all that often in her life.]

Guess so.

Fourth Step - back from that ledge my friend, you could cut ties with all the lies that [action]

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