This was for Caleb, when I did like him.

Dearest Boy I can't do this anymore I can't just wait around you pushed me you punched me I've fallen to the ground I tried to stand back up and you pushed me right back down I tried to let it out with just a few simple tears but it ended up flowing, my face permanitly streaked with fears the fact that your not mine yet scars me and i fall for you again ...

No pretense of civility this night. No statecraft. Blood has been shed and it must be answered with blood. The hand that traces the map spread out before him shows its twenty-six mortal years, if none of the three centuries and more that came after. The marks of those years are worn within his spirit and revealed only in the eyes that survey the territory wherein the battle shall be won, or lost....