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Looking over at him, she found herself having trouble with things she'd never had trouble with before. She had been blessed to be a lycan for a number of reasons. Having an animal form have her a sense of freedom humans usually never could feel. But it also meant she had a chance to taste true loyalty and , potentially, true kinship with her own family, and with potentially a mate. But that was not guaranteed, especially since she rarely was around her own kind, which whom that type of bond was most likely to form. With her own, it usually was detected through special scents or a hard to describe connection that could form with no others. Urges, and some even claimed that after one gave into those urges, both were stronger than before. But those were mostly unproven.

She tried to focus and after he put his bowl in the "sink" she poured herself some of the makeshift soup and and sat down with water, watching him take a sip of what smelled like strong alcohol. She had no taste for alcohol, though to be fair she'd never had it. Slaves were rarely allowed to have it, or had access to it. Why would they? His question did surprise her though. It was rather sudden. "I was looking for Ireland." She admitted truthfully, still fighting not to gaze over at him. She did not want to stare and knew she was having trouble resisting it. He was barely clothing and she'd not had the struggle before, so didn't have practice resisting it.

Distract yourself Arya, or you will break every sacred vow your people have, and make yourself slave to him in another way for eternity. She could only lay with one man, and she knew that. If she did it, it would be over for her. Even if it was only a one night stand for him. It was a terrifying thing for her. She had to resist. Distract yourself. She swallowed hard, and put her hands in her lap, digging her nails into her palms. "I recognized something at one of the booths. I think I was born in Ireland, and am from there. But I can't read, so I couldn't read the map." She said. She hoped that if she just kept the conversation going, she would not be tempted, or at least, could resist a bit better than she was. Maybe I should go run in the rain. Too bad it sounded like a freaking hurricane outside. Thunder crashed and flashes of lightning let her know that wasn't an option. Even if the cold water would probably be a welcome thing. She'd heard that before, in the warehouse, from jokes between the guards.

That was when the true nightmare started. A scent bombarded her nose and her pupils dilated a bit and her body froze for that second, and then she was able to move again. Her eyes took on a golden hue, not quite like they did when she shifted, but different, more unique. She stopped digging into her hands, but instead had focused her gaze on Zander. She didn't speak, but struggled in the most immense way possible. Every single intellectual thought warned her not to do this, to avoid the very instinctual thing that her body was telling her to do. To do it would be to trap herself. To put a whole different type of collar around her neck. But the problem was, she didn't know if she was strong enough to resist the pull. It was a dam****g pull. Once she had never before felt. She now pitied those before her who had felt its tug. Others describe this as bliss. I don't agree. It is torture. It reminds me of the whip's graze against my skin. It burns and cannot be ignored lest it turn my skin to flames. It made her blood want to boil. She stood up, and had she been human her palms would have reveled the marks from her nails, but they had healed by now.

"I am trying very hard to not push you down onto the floor and do thinks that would make school girls blush. So I would take ten steps back if I were you." She said, her voice shifting. That was the downside of being half animal. She wasn't meant to deny herself. Being free also meant not being in control of herself. That kinda sucked. She ran her fingers along the side of his face, having placed her hand there while speaking. Her eyes were a deep gold by this point. That was the color of a pureblood lycan's pupils when their instinct took over. It was a good way to tell them apart from a human. Or know when they were loosing control or using their abilities. But she knew all too well the chains that would she was placing on herself by even touching his face.

She could always throw out the lame excuse of 'I could break a human in two', but she doubted he'd accept it. So she caved in. She couldn't explain to him the chains she was putting around herself. And even if she could, it was her problem and commitment, not his. He wasn't lycan, she was. So she put her lips on his, and pushed herself against him. It was her first time to kiss the lips of another. Yet the jolt of fire that rushed through her was unlike anything she'd felt before and it took her breathe away. It made her inner wolf want to jump for joy. She was taken aback. In that moment, she caved in and the bond was formed. The chains were clasped on and she was now prisoner. It was that simple. Or rather, that intricate. It wasn't the kiss itself, but rather the act of caving in that sealed the deal for her kind. It was a bond of spirit, not of physical nature. It couldn't be seen like a tattoo or actual chain. For her it was eternal, and went beyond any sort of title of slave or master. It wasn't up for debate. Even if she didn't want to, it wasn't her choice.

She broke the kiss just long enough to take in more air, which she desperately needed. She took his hand to pull him to the bed. She knew he was injured and didn't wan to hurt him, though she could have easily pushed him onto the table or floor and been perfectly happy with it. Her wolf would've preferred it actually. But she didn't want him to open his wound back up. It would more certainly not be kind of her to force that on him.

She spoke in Irish, not really knowing what she said in the moment, but when she realized she'd done it she quickly switched to the common tongue though it nearly pained her to even speak at all. "My kind, our instinct choose for us, in this. We give to one, only, the choice is not given lightly." It was all she could manage, and she was very careful with the words she managed. Of course she'd been terrified, but now that the choice was made, her mind was at peace. Now that she had given into those instincts, it was as if her wolf was telling it was going to be alright, and soothing any worries she had. It was like that wolf was leading her in this, and lulling her to inner peace. She was giving into the part of her that had kept her alive for all these years.

((You can add whatever details you want then do the time skip razz . I was going to do it, but figured you might want to get a last word in first. It can be a short post, that's fine. No biggie at all in that regard. But still thought you might want at chance at a last word. I have had mixed wants in that regards as to people's wants for that, and when to throw them in, so let me know your preference on that for the future. ))

For as long as both live...that's pretty deep considering both people in question are basically immortal to a degree. Alas, after everything was said and done, and since it was storming out, it was easy to fall asleep. Or at least, for the lycan female. And considering it was a first for her, she was passed out completely. Her brown hair completely tousled. Clothing scattered, but all that remained on her was the necklace he'd given her to wear. Apparently it had looked vibrant or ...pleasing to the eye against her skin in the moment? She hadn't complained. But he probably did have more than one set of scratch marks down his back. She was part dog after all. Okay, wolf. Dog was an insult probably.

By a little past dawn the sky was clear and everything was brightening enough for it to be considered day. She was waking up, and able to rouse herself, and get up, and dress in her pants and braid her hair and put it up. She remembered everything and did her best not to think of the fact that she'd just put herself down to eternal service. Instead she went and located the seeds she'd purchased in town. From the heavy rainfall it was a perfect time to ready the area for the garden and plant the seeds for the garden. With any luck it would sprout quickly.

She was covered in dirt when he came over to kiss her, and she was surprised by it. But it wasn't unwelcome. She just wasn't not used to physical touch at all. At least, not the pleasant kind of touch. She was more than used to the kind that came with a whip or a firm hand. And she was still unsure of what all it meant on his end. She knew what it meant for her, but it didn't necessarily mean for him what it meant for her. Just because he was her mate, didn't mean she was his. They weren't the same species. Gosh how weird did that sound? She shook her head and went back to digging in the dirt, until she had a square section, out of the way, as per his requirements. She then set the seeds in, making sure each had the room they needed to grow properly.

The soil was already plenty wet so she didn't need to water them any. But she would need to monitor them. Once that was done she went inside to wash her hands so she could check on the herbs she'd set to dry the day before. She finished that and went to clean the bowls from dinner the night before, and changed into her nightgown so she could wash her pants and shift, which had gotten covered in dirt from digging. Once they were clean she hung them to dry, her hair still put up in a braid.