What is so important to you that without it, life would not be worth living? Why?

[aragorn_tm]

Aragorn is stretched out on the beach. The sand is a little damp under his back, but it's soft and he's been there for a while so his body has moulded it to its shape. He does that now and then, when he feels the need to be in touch with the earth again the way he used to when living outdoors. He lies down on the ground and watches the sky, and

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[stillsharpe]

Richard's boots are crushing the tiny pebbles and the sand of the beach. The rhythm to his steps is definitely that of an whole army on the attack. He stops beside Aragorn, his shadow covering the ranger for a short while until he flops down to sit.

"She's gone," he announces in a low growl.

[aragorn_tm]

The ranger looks up, startled out of his thoughts. Somehow Richard's sudden appearance on this beach doesn't surprise him, what does puzzle him is the hard cast to his features, the scowl knitting his brows.

"Who, Buffy?" he asks astonished.

[stillsharpe]

"Yes, indeed. Gone, with a note left that doesn't say why or where. And she's carrying my child."

Ricahrd grabs a fist of sand and crushes it in his fist. "Women."

[aragorn_tm]

Aragorn's eyebrows have shot up in surprise at the mention of a child and at the thought of Buffy disappearing. Now he frowns as he reaches to grab Richard's arm.

"You think she's left you.." he whispers, the tone hovering between a question and a quick assessment of Sharpe's mood.