Shenyo breathed her words in slowly without opening his own eyes. She was tired of a world in which life was slowly ebbing away. It wasn't hard to sympathize with her, to agree completely. There were hints of life and joy but they were spread far and thin between canyons of suffering and torment.<br/><br/>Yet still they could not give up.<br/><br/>A sudden warmth radiated into Lydia's hand and throughout her body as she drank from him with a simple touch. A deep, burning heat that was almost too hot to touch. With that heat she could feel a single thought from his soul. Determination.<br/><br/>"We will do the best thing we can. Together." He spoke softly, lips pressing gently against her fingertips. "We will stop running one way or another. Fight to our last, die, or be captured. I've always found it hard to believe you lose who you are when you change. I've spoken with someone before and after...they enjoy what they are." Shenyo held her a little tighter. "Yet I simply could not believe them. The things they were suddenly willing to do, they weren't the same." There may be things worse than death on the path ahead of them. Or was all their running for nothing? Was it better to give in and accept a gift, instead of a curse?<br/><br/>"Next time they won't get away from me." Shenyo didn't think so. Yet as soon as he spoke that sudden heat passed with a breath and he slid his face alongside hers. Despite his anger it was clear he didn't want this. All he wanted to do was, "...I wish we could stay like this." Barely a whisper. "I know we can't. They'd never let us be." A fourth option? To run as far away as possible? To where they couldn't be reached? Some part of the world not yet infected, not yet overthrown? How long would that last?