Storme watched late that evening as the Breed Enforcers guarding the house crossed paths, stopped and chatted. After the weeks she had been here, they were doing something she hadn't expected. They were growing complacent. The night was cloudy, storm clouds brewing over the mountains to block the emerging moon and dim the light shining down on Haven. She had to run. Her emotions were in such conflict, the needs, the realities she had always known under attack. She couldn't fight this much longer. If she didn't get away from Haven, then she would never feel that the decision she was close to making was the right one to make. As long as she was here in Styx's home, surrounded by the humanity and the joy of life and freedom she glimpsed in the Breeds, then her emotions were in such conflict that making the decision was becoming impossible. Just as the thought of doing without Styx, of being without him, was beginning to become an agonizing choice. It was a choice she would have to make eventually though.
