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Hi. I couldn’t help but notice you’re upset and bailed from the party like your ass was on fire. Not that I usually chase after women running away from my general direction, except for one but that is beside the point. My sister and I were just worried about ya. Why? Well, that is a good question. Though, she wasn’t my sister when she was first here, but she was my adoptive sister in Egypt. Who I killed. Whom I killed? Whom, who? You don’t happen to be blind from that scar, do ya? Because I can’t help but notice the scar. Not that I’m staring. I’m not a creeper. I mean, I’ve been standing here for a minute. I didn’t want you to know I saw crying. I can handle Cordy crying, but not other women. Not that I’m insensitive or can’t handle it. I can. I’ve seen plenty of women cry. Not that I make women cry. Nevermind. I just get the sense that you’d appreciate me not having seen it. The point is we just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Are you okay? And Cordy wants to know anything and everything about you? How about that?

Les sighed then to himself, shaking his head. Yeah, that’s the right idea, Girtab. Get all the bad ideas out now. She looks okay. Upset, yeah, but okay. Maybe, I should go get the Wolf, they all seem to flock to him. Damn it, Cordy was right. I am being such a pussy.
Les looked down and saw the discarded shoes belonging to the young woman. She was dolled up for the formal, but it didn’t fit her essence. She radiated a raw strength and earthy vibe. He was struck at the familiarity of it—Cordy had been right about this girl. There was dirt on her leggings and hands. Ah, an offending branch. Les made a mental note to return tomorrow and burn the thing. Followed with the mental note that he was still staring like a creeper, Les purpose stepped on small twig to make his presence known. He watched as her head snapped in his direction as the sharp snap filled the small wooded area. Les cleared his throat, “Looks like I’m not the only one that wanted to escape that party. “
Her milky eyes didn’t leave his direction.  In fact, her eyebrows drew in.  The silence grown more palpable by the second. "...Hello?" she quietly asked out into the dark, tense in her confusion.
Step up, Girtab.
“The cliché of feeling alone in a room full of people is apropos. I don’t think anyone will notice if I don’t arrive. Don’t really belong there anyway. Not that I really belong back home either. Feel more comfortable in this world, y’know. Unlike Cordy, I didn’t live here or have past memories of here.”
Not really doing anything to counter the creeper vibe.
Although she wasn’t speaking, her body language spoke volumes.  She was tense and rigid sitting on the ground.  Her legs were still pressed up to chest but her head was up, alert and ready.  It was then the scar caught his attention. The moonlight lit up the pale scar with a haunting glow and recognition of such a specific wound created a hard knot in Les’ chest. He saw Caine’s face with a bloody gash overlay the girl’s. If she were Caine’s descendant, how could a scar be passed on from generation to generation? The color of her eyes, the scars, how she moved, the Orion myths that continued in history—he’d wager every penny that she was blind. And it was his fault.
With that in mind, Les walked around the clearing purposely shuffling the underbrush. These thoughts were confirmed as her body followed his movements, rather than just her eyes. It was then he noticed that this spot was well used. She’d been here before. “I hope I didn’t intrude on your special spot. I know this girl, she’s got one on this beach in Florida. To be alone and to deal. Gorgeous. The beach is.” And so is the girl. Closing his eyes, Les imagined said girl on the sand and surf. The thick cinnamon locks cascading down her mocha skin. Oh, and that smile, when she did smile...

He shook the daydream away and turned his eyes back to this other girl. “Like I said this is a good spot," Les went on rambling, "Maybe you could help my sister find something like this. Cordy, could use something like this. I think it’s getting harder for her to pretend. She doesn’t want me to worry about her, so she’s pretending that she can handle it all. I know she is strong. I’d never question her strength. It’s like she doesn’t trust me anymore. She's hiding it. The thoughts, the feelings, everything that this Cloaked World opened her up too—like a floodgate opened. It’s too much. Y’know whadda mean? “He turned to her clouded white eyes staring back at him. Her slightly pursed lips and uncertain expression said she was still assessing him, his words, and his purpose.  “Which is just bullshit.”
Bluntness without rage.  Frustration without venom.  Did he see a tiny smirk in a corner of her lips? If there had been one, it was gone quickly.
“It’s just bullshit, because I can see she is hiding it. Those closest to you always do. Now, I’m pissed off because she putting up a damn wall. Maybe she’ll talk to the cop." Les paused, immediately grimacing. "Nope, screw that. She should be able to confide in her own brother before him. He’s practically a stranger.”
The irony of him confessing his own thoughts to stranger, albeit one that reminded him of an old comrade, was not lost on him.
With several feet between them, Les crouched down and studied this new confidant. She was easily ten years his junior. The curly hair and the lines of her face, not to mention, the strength radiating from her... A small chuckle escaped him. Of course, the Greek would have such strong bloodlines. There was clearly other blood there, but Les could see him nonetheless. No wonder he felt such at ease, openly rambling. It was as if they were on the steps of the palace in Egypt, exchanging tales of the hunt again. With a frown and grunt, he knew that this girl was either going to be a salve or a poison for Cordy. A selfish notion slyly slipped between his thoughts. His long harbored grief and guilt could be alleviated, his betrayal forgiven. This raven haired angel didn’t even know that one word from her could either save or damn the siblings.
No, this was not her burden. And yet, the hope would not leave him.
“Heh, oh yeah. Cordy says I’ve the manners of an animal. My name is Les,” he introduced as he held out his hand. When she didn’t take it, he brushed it off. She was blind. Duh. When she didn’t offer her name up, he prompted, “And you are?”
She made him wait. He couldn’t help but smile in approval. Although he did most of the talking, he made sure she had the power and control the entire time. She must have known it. Then finally, she spoke one word. "Arina," she reluctantly answered, as if still gauging him.
“Thank you, Arina. For listening, that is. I owe ya one," he grinned as he stood. He was about to explain how he suddenly didn’t feel friendless, or how he’d be around if she’d ever need him to return the favor, but a slight shift in the air caught his attention. The smirk fell from his face when he detected an undesired scent.  He was not in the mood to deal with the Wolf. Maybe, he was looking for Arina. Les knew if he saw him, he’d be tempted to ask for his help with Cordy, and every fiber of his being hated having to ask that Mutt for anything. Nope, not happening. Not tonight. Not to mention he didn’t want to be around when Arina connected the dots between her scar and his past. Les felt the aged guilt return. “You should head back in soon, Kid," he advised her. "You’ve prolly got friends looking for you.”
Arina’s presence didn’t hinder Les from transforming into his anima form, an Egyptian Mau. He flicked his tail as he considered her near non-reaction, wondering just how much she understood. She was a descendant of a magical being in magical world surrounded by much stranger things. She’d figure it out and make her decision from there. Trust begat trust, and he had to start someone where.
He crossed the distance between him and Arina. He bumped his head against her elbow and rubbed the length of his side against her leggings. Then, without so much as a goodbye or a mew, he sprinted out of the forest and back to Cordy.
He was running. Running fast.
As he did, he heard Cordy’s four words again.
Stop. Being. A. Pussy.

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

Hi. I couldn’t help but notice you’re upset and bailed from the party like your ass was on fire. Not that I usually chase after women running away from my general direction, except for one but that is beside the point. My sister and I were just worried about ya. Why? Well, that is a good question. Though, she wasn’t my sister when she was first here, but she was my adoptive sister in Egypt. Who I killed. Whom I killed? Whom, who? You don’t happen to be blind from that scar, do ya? Because I can’t help but notice the scar. Not that I’m staring. I’m not a creeper. I mean, I’ve been standing here for a minute. I didn’t want you to know I saw crying. I can handle Cordy crying, but not other women. Not that I’m insensitive or can’t handle it. I can. I’ve seen plenty of women cry. Not that I make women cry. Nevermind. I just get the sense that you’d appreciate me not having seen it. The point is we just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Are you okay? And Cordy wants to know anything and everything about you? How about that?

Les sighed then to himself, shaking his head. Yeah, that’s the right idea, Girtab. Get all the bad ideas out now. She looks okay. Upset, yeah, but okay. Maybe, I should go get the Wolf, they all seem to flock to him. Damn it, Cordy was right. I am being such a pussy.
Les looked down and saw the discarded shoes belonging to the young woman. She was dolled up for the formal, but it didn’t fit her essence. She radiated a raw strength and earthy vibe. He was struck at the familiarity of it—Cordy had been right about this girl. There was dirt on her leggings and hands. Ah, an offending branch. Les made a mental note to return tomorrow and burn the thing. Followed with the mental note that he was still staring like a creeper, Les purpose stepped on small twig to make his presence known. He watched as her head snapped in his direction as the sharp snap filled the small wooded area. Les cleared his throat, “Looks like I’m not the only one that wanted to escape that party. “
Her milky eyes didn’t leave his direction.  In fact, her eyebrows drew in.  The silence grown more palpable by the second. "...Hello?" she quietly asked out into the dark, tense in her confusion.
Step up, Girtab.
“The cliché of feeling alone in a room full of people is apropos. I don’t think anyone will notice if I don’t arrive. Don’t really belong there anyway. Not that I really belong back home either. Feel more comfortable in this world, y’know. Unlike Cordy, I didn’t live here or have past memories of here.”
Not really doing anything to counter the creeper vibe.
Although she wasn’t speaking, her body language spoke volumes.  She was tense and rigid sitting on the ground.  Her legs were still pressed up to chest but her head was up, alert and ready.  It was then the scar caught his attention. The moonlight lit up the pale scar with a haunting glow and recognition of such a specific wound created a hard knot in Les’ chest. He saw Caine’s face with a bloody gash overlay the girl’s. If she were Caine’s descendant, how could a scar be passed on from generation to generation? The color of her eyes, the scars, how she moved, the Orion myths that continued in history—he’d wager every penny that she was blind. And it was his fault.
With that in mind, Les walked around the clearing purposely shuffling the underbrush. These thoughts were confirmed as her body followed his movements, rather than just her eyes. It was then he noticed that this spot was well used. She’d been here before. “I hope I didn’t intrude on your special spot. I know this girl, she’s got one on this beach in Florida. To be alone and to deal. Gorgeous. The beach is.” And so is the girl. Closing his eyes, Les imagined said girl on the sand and surf. The thick cinnamon locks cascading down her mocha skin. Oh, and that smile, when she did smile...

He shook the daydream away and turned his eyes back to this other girl. “Like I said this is a good spot," Les went on rambling, "Maybe you could help my sister find something like this. Cordy, could use something like this. I think it’s getting harder for her to pretend. She doesn’t want me to worry about her, so she’s pretending that she can handle it all. I know she is strong. I’d never question her strength. It’s like she doesn’t trust me anymore. She's hiding it. The thoughts, the feelings, everything that this Cloaked World opened her up too—like a floodgate opened. It’s too much. Y’know whadda mean? “He turned to her clouded white eyes staring back at him. Her slightly pursed lips and uncertain expression said she was still assessing him, his words, and his purpose.  “Which is just bullshit.”
Bluntness without rage.  Frustration without venom.  Did he see a tiny smirk in a corner of her lips? If there had been one, it was gone quickly.
“It’s just bullshit, because I can see she is hiding it. Those closest to you always do. Now, I’m pissed off because she putting up a damn wall. Maybe she’ll talk to the cop." Les paused, immediately grimacing. "Nope, screw that. She should be able to confide in her own brother before him. He’s practically a stranger.”
The irony of him confessing his own thoughts to stranger, albeit one that reminded him of an old comrade, was not lost on him.
With several feet between them, Les crouched down and studied this new confidant. She was easily ten years his junior. The curly hair and the lines of her face, not to mention, the strength radiating from her... A small chuckle escaped him. Of course, the Greek would have such strong bloodlines. There was clearly other blood there, but Les could see him nonetheless. No wonder he felt such at ease, openly rambling. It was as if they were on the steps of the palace in Egypt, exchanging tales of the hunt again. With a frown and grunt, he knew that this girl was either going to be a salve or a poison for Cordy. A selfish notion slyly slipped between his thoughts. His long harbored grief and guilt could be alleviated, his betrayal forgiven. This raven haired angel didn’t even know that one word from her could either save or damn the siblings.
No, this was not her burden. And yet, the hope would not leave him.
“Heh, oh yeah. Cordy says I’ve the manners of an animal. My name is Les,” he introduced as he held out his hand. When she didn’t take it, he brushed it off. She was blind. Duh. When she didn’t offer her name up, he prompted, “And you are?”
She made him wait. He couldn’t help but smile in approval. Although he did most of the talking, he made sure she had the power and control the entire time. She must have known it. Then finally, she spoke one word. "Arina," she reluctantly answered, as if still gauging him.
“Thank you, Arina. For listening, that is. I owe ya one," he grinned as he stood. He was about to explain how he suddenly didn’t feel friendless, or how he’d be around if she’d ever need him to return the favor, but a slight shift in the air caught his attention. The smirk fell from his face when he detected an undesired scent.  He was not in the mood to deal with the Wolf. Maybe, he was looking for Arina. Les knew if he saw him, he’d be tempted to ask for his help with Cordy, and every fiber of his being hated having to ask that Mutt for anything. Nope, not happening. Not tonight. Not to mention he didn’t want to be around when Arina connected the dots between her scar and his past. Les felt the aged guilt return. “You should head back in soon, Kid," he advised her. "You’ve prolly got friends looking for you.”
Arina’s presence didn’t hinder Les from transforming into his anima form, an Egyptian Mau. He flicked his tail as he considered her near non-reaction, wondering just how much she understood. She was a descendant of a magical being in magical world surrounded by much stranger things. She’d figure it out and make her decision from there. Trust begat trust, and he had to start someone where.
He crossed the distance between him and Arina. He bumped his head against her elbow and rubbed the length of his side against her leggings. Then, without so much as a goodbye or a mew, he sprinted out of the forest and back to Cordy.
He was running. Running fast.
As he did, he heard Cordy’s four words again.
Stop. Being. A. Pussy.