Gaark floated in the large pool of water in the cavern. It brought some memories back to him, memories of when he was young. He remembered jumping from the top of the upwards pathway, straight into the pool. The same pathway that led into the inner portions of the cavern, where people commonly spent their day.

When he was six years old, jumping into the pool was the most entertaining thing in the world to him. He learned to swim at five years old, and hadn't looked back ever since. He could still swim after all these years, after all the brain damage, and it was the one thing that stuck with him.

Gaark was hoping to fetch more memories, as if he was trying to fish them out of the pool itself, but he wasn't having any luck yet. The small fish that tickled his feet now and then, broke his focus.

"What the fuck happened to me?" He whispered to himself, "Why were those idiots with wooden masks eating people? Did I eat people?"

It was difficult for him to depend on his memories, nonetheless piece them together in a puzzle that made sense. He was confused, he was angry, and he didn't know what to do about it.

"I'm healthy," He tried to help himself feel better, "Jimmy did a good job."

Even recent memories were difficult to fetch. His brain was new, essentially, so as his partially repaired lobes started setting in, memories felt like dreams, and dreams felt like memories. He was in deep confusion, and yet, his prefrontal cortex was working overtime to compensate for all the years lost, so he was under constant contemplation. Philosophers couldn't hold a candle to him right now.

"Maybe my health is all I should care about?" He asked himself, "Health, family, safety… that's all that matters, right?"

While Gaark tried to find inner peace, a woman stared at him from the other side of the pool. She stood on the dry ground, and a tear ran down her eye.

Unlike the young man in front of her, she had plenty of memories to recall, memories as sweet as sugar, experiences that she had with Gaark. This woman was Hannah.

Hannah was perhaps under deeper contemplation than Gaark was. She's been watching him for a solid hour, debating with herself if she should step into the pool and comfort him.

The more she thought about it, the more memories she dug up from the past. She remembered sharing a sweet, secretive kind of love with Gaark when he was just old enough to grow his first mustache. Was it weird? Yes, but in some forgotten corners of her mind, she found herself wanting him again, and this feeling grew the more she thought about him.

When Gaark disappeared, she had promised herself to be faithful to her man, and not seek out any other man to have relations with. What she had been doing for the past few years, was the equivalent of staying faithful to her actual husband, or simply the man she had a kid with.

Recently, both her man, and her son died in the massacres of the Giant's Ditch, and she felt that she was supposed to die with them. At forty-three years old, and essentially widowed, she felt that it was a cruel fate for her to still be alive. She had nothing to live for, and yet her magic said otherwise. Her magic saved her life, now she couldn't die no matter what the dangers were.

Hannah was almost invincible, and the only thing that could kill her was old age. That's how she predicted to die, at least. She had to suffer through decades of an unwanted existence.

On odd hours, she felt like her man was still alive. She wiggled around in her fur bed, expecting to put her arm around her man, only to be brutally reminded that he was no longer here. She still felt connected to him, and she might as well be, because she had spent the past five years trying to rectify the secret affair she had with Gaark. She had over-performed, and now her own brain was playing tricks on her.

Struck with an array of mixed emotions in relation to the two men she shared a fur bed with, she was having trouble to truly recognize which man she loved, and which man she liked. She was stuck in limbo, frozen in place, unsure what to do.

Then, she heard a thick, manly voice calling her name. This voice shook her to the core.

"Hannah," Gaark called out, "Did you want to bathe? I can get out if you want some privacy."

Gaark had finally seen her after a full hour of her just standing there, and his feelings towards her were a lot more straightforward, or simple. He liked her, sure, perhaps he even loved her, but now, he was smart enough to see the value in giving space to a grieving mother. He really didn't want to push any buttons, and yet, he did push buttons by just calling her name.

All of a sudden, Hannah felt half as confused as she was a few seconds ago. She was hurting, she was grieving, but she knew one thing for sure; Her feelings for Gaark never actually went away.

Hannah took a look around her, and confirmed that there was no one else around. The young men, and the old heads who mentored them, were outside, either patrolling the mountainside, or spending their breaks watching how Anna taught the new QTs, and their riders how to behave.

Essentially, she and Gaark were alone in here. This was when she solidified her decision, and began to undress.

"You're sweet, Gaark, but you're the last man I need privacy from," She answered.

At forty-three years old, Hannah's libido was quite strong for a woman her age. She spent most of her life running around, and although she spent shy of the past decade mostly in isolation, taking care of her kid, she still went out to hunt now and then, so she was quite healthy for her age.

Once she dropped her fur clothes to the ground, she revealed that the fat she accumulated over the years was in a constant battle with her muscles, and her muscles had a fraction of an advantage. Her body would break most men, young and old alike!

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