Some things, transcend the language barrier.When we first met, our greeting was very professional like- nothing personal. It was an informal greeting,...as greetings go, and Catalina probably didn't pay much attention to me, since I was an older “gringo” and she was Mexican.After a few visits to the restaurant, I learned Catalina had three kids. It didn't’t surprise me since she was strikingly beautiful and what guy wouldn't want to have a boat load of kids by a beautiful Latina? What really. His lips brushed even more softly over mine. My eyes closed… I felt his lips on my eyelids, it was becoming gentler, less real and more of a dream, I was losing awareness. Time was moving so fast, he was slowing down… Oh God this felt so good! I could hear his voice, warning me? I could only hear his tone, not the actual words. My vision was blurred and my mind was fuzzy. He easily realized I couldn’t respond, and simply whispered more dirty things to me, for his sake more than mine. I felt his. "How? I thought you were a Zibong!" I was! It was awful!" The young Mage sat next to me, pouring himself some cider. "The shamans used the spirit sword to separate me from the Zibong this morning. They are really happy with us for giving them something new to play with. They have separated a lot of the Zibongs. It is weird seeing all these people walking around that we thought were dead." They are okay?" I asked, "Being a Zibong hasn't changed them?" Well, some of them are a bit quiet. None of. ."The man placed his hand over hers and squeezed gently."I know, ma chère, I know, but Henri thought he was doing the right thing when he enlisted. We have been over this many times. God simply wished to call him home. As much as we needed him with us, God needed him more." Somehow it still seems so unfair. I bore him within my womb for nine months, went through the pain of his birth, we raised him through the scraped knees and bloody noses, only for him to die just as he becomes a man. It is.