[she doesn't know that the world is turning just for her]

skill: [none]

---

Euphemia had long since resigned to the fact that she was a northerner. Once she got past the mentality that told her snow and frost were uncomfortable, it was almost as if the sensations could no longer touch her. The thin coat she inherited from mother had filled in with a nice layer of fluffy winter plumage, gifted to her by father. There was no use staying in the sanctity of the Vale, when the fury of winter was barely an imposition.

She couldn’t help but notice that Duskbreaker, though more largely built than she, had filled out quite similarly. When not impacted with mud, he sported a most striking tri-color coat that was so different from the monotone colors of her family line. More than that, the maiden felt that his entire family’s culture was far more interesting and exotic than hers.

Euphemia liked spending time with him (liked learning from him as she liked learning all things) and thus, invited him on a small adventure. She dared not take him north to the site of his traumatic rebirth, but she knew of a river that lay east, which could provide any number of interesting things for them to peruse at leisure.

If only Euphemia had ever once gone east, instead of exclusively exploring the northwestern tundra, she would have known that the river held ancient, strong, mysterious magic.

She did not know, and so the two traipsed through the snowy north together, their plush coats keeping them warm and happy in the lateness of the season. It had been a few days' travel, but it would be worth it, the maiden had promised. There was nothing like it in all of Frostfang Vale, which boasted small waterfalls, which fed into streams, which coalesced into a lake. None of it roared as this did, or split the land in two.

And best yet, it might not be as frozen as the other, smaller rivers of the tundra might be.

The scent of water was on the air, and Euphemia knew they were getting close. She thought she noted a soft floral scent, intertwined in a dance with that of sodden earth, but thought almost nothing of it. In fact, she instinctively attributed it to the warm clime that surrounded this place.

C’mon! the greyscale shewolf ushered Duskbreaker forward with a cheer, darting forward several paces to scale a small hill, nose jutting forward to see what lay on the other side.

---

He came from a land of seasons, so winter was not a foreign thing to him. He actually preferred it, considering his thick and fluffy coat. Something he must have inherited from his father. His mother’s Lunaventure had brought her to cold lands, and he remembered some of her stories of the wolves there. How harsh it was. How different they were than the wolves of the Starheart.

She did not like to speak of his father. He knew why. The other pups used to make fun of him for it. He tried not to think about it.

There were better things to think about right now. He was free from the mud, shedding the gunk as he tried to shed the terrible memories of his throat being ripped out. The memories of Devika being thrown aside like a dead rabbit. They still haunted his dreams, if he wanted them or not. He would often wake up gasping for breath, stunned to find that his body was still whole.

You never, ever forget the feeling of breath coming to and from your neck, as blood fills your lungs.

But he managed to collect himself. There was so much to look forward to, and that hope drove him to swallow his fears. He was getting to spend time with a new friend, and getting to really begin his mission of recording and learning new cultures. It was exciting, and a good distraction.

He was starting to learn the area, with Euphemia’s help, and on this day they were going on a new adventure. The cold was not much of a bother, other than when it got deep to the knees. The scenery was beautiful at times, and he did his best to try and map out the area…but it was hard. They moved on quickly, but thankfully, the mountains always gave a good reference point. It was starting to feel rather familiar…but it was like a blur prevented him from knowing for sure.

As the air grew moist, Euphemia seemed to get more excited. The air began to smell quite different. No longer just crisp and cool, but had the touch of spring flowers to it. Odd! At this time? He pondered it for a second, but simply enjoyed it. 

Her ushering only causes him to perk up more, tail wagging happily behind him. ”This one moves as you move.” His tongue hung out of his mouth slightly, and he nodded to her as he loped along to the top of the hill. The smell gets stronger now, but the sight was something he had never seen before.

Flames were not a foreign thing to him. A sacred flame was kept in the Starheart, but never had it been this color before. He pauses then, blinking as he took in the lovely color from a distance.

”Euphemia…behold! Such a flame, never has this one seen fire bear such color. And its scent carries the sweetness of great delight,” he look to her now, his grin growing rather large in this moment. A little larger than he would normally intend. It is almost as if he couldn’t control it. The smell was already bringing such a joy! Molten eyes sought to meet her own, seeking her thoughts on the odd situation, for the smell of choking smoke…it simply was not here. As much as the back of his mind wanted to question it, something else did not allow him to focus on it, and such a concern faded away quickly like dust in the wind.

[she doesn't know that the world is turning just for her]

for future reference, they rolled a 9

---

At most, Euphemia had expected to do some ice skating, or to look at a very cool fish beneath the waters. Both of these things would have entertained a Euphemia without end, as she would have been bordering on cabin fever if she and Duskbreaker had not absconded when they had.

At it would turn out, what the maiden did find over the hill would become far more entertaining than ice and fish could ever be, combined.

It’s a fire! the shewolf gasped, breathing deep to smell the smoke, and emitting a soft squeak of surprise when there was none. In truth, Euphemia had never seen a fire before – had only seen the effect of one in Tiberii’s charred and peeling pawpads. She had learned quickly to fear it; an unstoppable force that consumed anything put in its path.

Euphemia knew innately that this fire wasn’t dangerous. It seemed… self contained. It seemed soft. It made her eyes feel good to lay her vision on it.

She drifted forward, momentarily forgetting about the man beside her. Euphemia came up close to it, as if staring the fire in its own eyes; not so much a challenge, but supreme acceptance and appreciation. These emotions surged through her body with a sudden intensity that left her at a loss for words.

Phia could do nothing more than pace in a semi-circle just outside the fire, being as close as she could be, the rosy hues of the flames dancing in the wide mirrors of her eyes. Then her attention fixated on Duskbreaker, who stood just beyond, on the other side; his form slightly obscured by the dancing tendrils of flame.

I’ve never known fire to be pink.

Euphemia could not possibly know what compelled her movements – perhaps curiosity at the lack of heat, or attraction due to the perfumery that swirled around them – but she then lifted a slender forearm and dipped her toes directly into the edge of the flames. She saw how her paw left a trail in the powerful pink surges, but felt no pain. Her heartbeat slowed, and her lips lifted into a longing simper.

It’s… so….

---

It appears that Euphemia was not ignorant of the mysterious thing that is fire. She was just as surprised as he at the sight of it, and how different it was. The pink flames danced with a beautiful aura, and his own eyes moved from Euphemia back to the flames as she found herself drawn to it.

Duskbreaker followed, feeling the same pull towards it, entranced by the increasing power of the floral aroma. He never felt this drawn to fire before. To seek warmth, yes, but this was something different. Different color, different smell, different draw…was it even REALLY fire? His mental question only lasted but a second before it too faded away to a blur, the intoxicating effects not allowing him to linger on the oddities.

Euphemia got rather close to the flames, and in a normal circumstance he would have protested, but he too found himself closer than he would normally get. It was as if a voice was in the back of his head screaming at him to get them both away to a safe distance, but the scream is drowned out to a garble. It was confusing, and almost like his body was acting on its own.

Euphemia moved around the flame, and his molten eyes moved back to her as she came to the other side. He could swear that she was glowing herself, a golden hue mixing with the pink. It was a beautiful sight to see, such warm and welcoming light and aura. He never knew a wolf could glow like that, her own eyes starting to sparkle with the same glow.

At least, that his what he was seeing. Any outsider would not see such a thing if they looked down upon them. No, the fire was hitting him hard and he did not even know it, changing his perception of the very world around him.

”Never did this one know…you carried such a golden glow within you,” he responded, feeling a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest. His eyes moved down to see how paw in the flames. Normally, he would have dashed over to get her out of the flame, and assess any damages, but the garbled part of his mind only cause a mild discomfort, completely overtaken by the beauty of the flame and aura. Still, he was aware enough to move around the flame.

The aroma continued to envelope them, especially with how close they are, and he feels so different as he comes to stand beside her. Side by side, his shoulder touched hers. Gently he lifted a large black paw, and tried to move her paw away from the flame. ”This one does not wish you to be harmed,” he states, although if she asked, he would admit that he was quite tempted to give it a try himself…but everything he knew about flames told him, they should not touch it.

”These flames do not burn as true flames should,” he comments, feeling his breath grow heavy and slow. Not only that, the gentle touch made the warm sensation completely flow over him like laying in the water of a small stream. He managed to drag his eyes away from the flame and back to Euphemia, becoming entranced by that same glow that he saw earlier.

[she doesn't know that the world is turning just for her]

skill: [none]

---

Euphemia’s words died away on her lips. The fire itself was indescribable; something so beyond words that Euphemia could procure none at all to describe the type of total self-fulfillment she felt while basking in its glow. It did not burn her; it caressed. It did not desecrate, but sanctified.

and Euphemia herself was transfixed.

Duskbreaker materialized by her side, breaking her concentration and earning a gasp of surprise, uttered by parted, pale lips as she stumbled backwards half a pace. His nearness and presence overwhelmed her, while the gravity of his persona was enough to tighten her throat and stem the flow of words – somehow, his arm had found its place upon hers, and she instinctively hooked her wrist to catch him and find balance.

It was nothing but micromovements, the shifting of weight and turning of limbs, but it was enough to bowl Euphemia over emotionally, allowing her heart to crack wide open. Anyone standing in this golden light, which the man beside her claimed to see, would be consumed by it entirely.

Euphemia could not fight it. His words felt like a calm, spring breeze – specifically, the breeze she always caught after hiking up the northernmost rise in Frostfang Vale, when she would stand above the valley and feel the updraft that had swirled in that earthen bowl for centuries.

She could literally feel them, his words, as they left his mouth and settled in the nooks and crannies of her ears. They peppered her face like freckles, and lay across her lips like kisses.

How was it that she could feel his own breath? As his slowed, so did hers. The tightening in her chest loosened, and her arm slowly lowered. Her lips pursed slightly as she thought of the many, many ideas she wished to share with him. He spoke of the fire, but she could no longer see the fire.

She now knew the fire’s entire purpose – to illuminate Duskbreaker, and allow her to see him as he truly was.

A king, amongst men.

Oh, what a responsibility she bore at that moment! How to tell the man that she had gotten to know over the past few weeks that she now recognized his truest self, and that all the parts that made him were the perfect complement for all the parts that made her? How could it not have been so evident before this very moment?

How could she immediately right every wrong she had done unto him by neglecting to cherish him as beloved?

His eyes were upon her, gold that melted and shimmered. Gilded in the power of his attention, Euphemia dared a step closer to regain what she had lost in her stumble. These flames do not nearly burn half as strongly as you, she spoke, but the maiden found that her voice only came in the hushest of sounds.

nor half as bright.

Then, she was again at a loss for words. Her gaze dropped, unable to contain the potency of his own. She hauled in a deep breath, and then she did that again.

and again.

---

He did not expect her to stumble, and as her paw grasped around his own, he felt his own husky form wobbling a step or two back. It was an odd sensation, one he did not expect. This touch should not have caused either of them to fumble, but he did not think too hard on it. In fact, all logical thinking appears to be shrouded behind a thick wall of warm, moist fog.

As mesmerizing the flame is, he was more taken by Euphemia’s aura, and her gentle kind spirit. It was as if he could feel it emanating through the air, intermingled with the glorious scent. Physical beauty was one thing. A thing that comes and goes. A thing that is gifted and taken away by other forces…but the soul? That is something the stars sing about.

He wanted to lean in further, shoulder to shoulder, but dare not accidentally push her over with the weight of him. His body felt heavier than normal, a strange sensation. Yet, he felt the desire to get closer, to wrap together like two warm, fuzzy blankets. But for this small moment, he refrained, allowing her to control the level of touch she did or not did desire.

Their eyes meet, a combined golden glow. She moved closer, and he mirrored this movement without hesitation. It was as if it was a dance they already knew instinctively, simply ushered by the music of the sweet flame.

Her words made his chest fill with a warm ooze. He felt that he wanted to melt right then and there. No one had ever spoken to him in such a way, even if her words were but a whisper. He felt as if he was floating, being whisked away by a cloud during a hot summer rain.

Sometimes, no more words were needed.

He moved slowly, but deliberately, and sought to wrap his head around her in a gentle embrace if she would have him. Each movement was made to ensure she was willing, any indication of pulling back or displeasure would result in him respectfully pulling back. However, if she does accept his embrace, he would seek to inhale her scent, and be engulfed in her golden aura that seemed to grow more and more. It is then he would decide to speak once more in this brilliant haze.

”May our flames combine, and burn brighter than the mightiest star in the heavens,” he whispered softly, this very embrace being the moment the stars would quiver in their wake.

[she doesn't know that the world is turning just for her]

skill: [none]

---

Duskbreaker had given Euphemia quite a large responsibility to shoulder: to select his new name. A name was a temporary thing for the man (who came from a family that seemingly changed names often), but Euphemia considered names permanent. And thus, her dilemma began: how could she possibly name a man who has already lived not one lifetime, but two?

Now, the task could not be further from the realm of possibility. To breathe was almost too big a task; and indeed, she struggled to do so. She stood for a moment, face tilted downwards, considering the largeness of his paws solemnly. Not a second did she think he did not feel the same as she – the maiden belabored the moment just before she looked up, and accepted that her reality was forever changed.

Their reality.

Eventually, she did look up, and as she gazed at him through saucer-like eyes, she could not feel anything but pure appreciation blossoming in her heart, the warmth of it reaching deep within her. He was moving closer to her, making small shuffling movements that would rub their shoulders together.

The storyteller felt firm, which silently allowed Euphemia permission to be soft. Oh, how soft she was! It was as if she had lost the integrity of her bony infrastructure, melting into him as if the hot sun was blazing and he was her only hope for salvation. For this reason, Euphemia was easily enveloped in an embrace and provided not a sound or a thought of protest.

Instead, she elected to lift her chin and expose the underside of her neck to him so that he could be closer than he would have been otherwise; what was an embrace became nothing more than twirling around one another, and Euphemia sat wrapped up in him, and she expressed a simple wish:

That a hug could bind two bodies into one, and that their scents would chemically bind into something unique to them, and that his eyes would behold nothing more than her forevermore. As Duskbreaker had put it, may their flames combine.

Somewhere buried in all that fur, Euphemia found his ear. You think so? she whispered, words there were only for him, to inquire about the experience that bound them. H-how? the rush of emotions in her voice could not be helped, and she took a moment to steady herself before continuing.

I always thought… the physical tightness in her vocal chords was almost painful. The maiden attempted to breathe through it.

I thought…

Clearly, talking like that wasn’t working. Though she loathed to move, she did press a paw to his chest and pull her head back, no longer intertwined like mating slugs – she now looked at him, the tip of her nose just pressing into his own. Her eyes gazed deeply, feeling as though his own golden gaze was the portal to endless existential understanding. Looking at him, it all became clear.

I thought love was something you’d recognize the very first moment you saw it... She internally grimaced at her accidental use of the word love, but she could not think of a possible alternative she could use. but I was wrong! To be near him no longer felt like peace and recognition – it felt like fire, and it lit her up.

Love can be something you look at a hundred times. And then on the hundred and first time, you see. You finally see.

To address a second use of the word, the soft northerner leaned in close. What else can this be? her words were like honey; thick, cloying, and heavy with intention. More than perhaps she had ever felt in her life before.

---

The scent of the flame and Euphemia filled his lungs. He was drunk on the experience, completely enamoured and taken away to another place. This felt unreal. Perhaps it was, somewhat, unreal, with this pink flame and sweet floral aroma that filled them both with such joy and love. To him, it only exemplified what was already there.

She fell into his embrace and did not pull away. Their forms seemed to melt into one another, and he knew only bliss in this fragile moment. His head and neck wrapped around her, and the simple warmth of it brought a calmness he has perhaps never experienced before.

He nods slightly when she asked if he thought so, and he listened as pulled herself back a bit to speak. Such a thing seemed so difficult in these moments, the haze of the fire’s smoke wanting to steal their own breath. Their nose touched and he swore he saw golden sparkles flying into the air. How was such a thing possible?

It appears she believed in the starstrike- the love at first sight, a dangerous kind of love. But her mind had changed, reformed by experience instead of by stories. Stories are meant to teach and to guide, but ultimately, ones own journey is always unique. Ears were perked forward, and the melody of her words were nothing but little blessings.

”Love is not a constellation. It is a sky. One must seek where their stars align within it. For some, it is a starstrike, sudden and fierce. Yet such meteors burn hot…and fall to earth either hardened as stone…or scattered to ash.” he says gently, but firmly, no hesitation in his unwavering voice.

”Then there is the Stillfire, a love that is slow, but endures. It does not cling, and it does not chase, but it will remain,” he recited from the story of the Stone Ridge wolves. There are hundreds, if not thousands of stories of love from around the world brought to the Starwoven. There is not enough time given to a life to recite them all. They simply had to live their own. ”The stories of love are as vast as the sky that holds them. Let us walk beneath this sky, and see where our stars choose to meet,” he says kindly, his voice ringing true for what is reflected in his inner light.

He sought then a simple movement, a thoughtfully placed lick upon her forehead. A symbol of his feelings to run alongside the music of his words. His gestures are never pushy, never overbearing despite his bulk. The dancing pink flame illuminated them, and he continued seeing the golden glow that seemed so real and yet…unnatural. Like he was not supposed to be seeing it. A forbidden thing, that only the flame revealed on this day. It burned into his memory like the very meteors he spoke of…and he could only hope this did not turn to ash later in their story…for what had he done to deserve such love?

[she doesn't know that the world is turning just for her]

Skill: [none]

---

Is there anything in this world as fulfilling as requited want and yearning?

If there was, Euphemia hadn’t found it yet. Even her love for botany paled in comparison to the force of the feelings that surged within her. It was everything she had hoped it would be, and more. It was as if all the questions she ever had were answered, and every answer led back to the man who intertwined with her.

His words showered her with everything she had ever wanted. She was important to him – and not because she had been born with the same genealogy, but because he chose her. She mattered. Not that she hadn’t felt like she mattered before, but this was different. She lived without her parents just fine, and spent long amounts of time without her sisters. But to live without Duskbreaker? Impossible.

Because they chose each other.

The burly man had found his words, and of course, he spoke of the stars. She gazed at him, as if he were one of those stars he spoke so fervently of. The maiden laughed a laugh that was so purely enamoured, it was a love potion in and of itself.

It was so like Mother, who had managed to weave astrology into nearly every conversation they had. She found it utterly adorable to see this quality reflected in his golden eyes. It was both purity and honesty, personified.

Our stars? the silverwoman questioned rhetorically, strumming the bridge of her muzzle against the bony curvature of his own. Our stars meet here. Her lips traveled past his cheek to his ear as she contemplated his words.

Through stillfire and starstrike.

She hoped dearly that her voice was imparting the same emotions that he was inspiring in her – did she sound as truly confident as she felt? She wondered if her voice was so certain and steadfast that he could build an entire future upon it. Did her tones sound so sweet to his ears, that he could feast on nothing but the sound of her?

At least in that moment, all of those things were true for Euphemia.

Much like the storyteller himself, Euphemia had a penchant for looking past the exterior to see what lay inside. She was almost always overly critical, not only of herself, but of those around her. This inner critic was, astonishingly, silent. She could find nothing she wanted for, not in this cumulative moment, nor in the man so sat beside her.

She could do nothing to help the impulse that she felt to rub her cheek on him. When his tongue alighted with her forehead, the woman leaned into it, eyes shutting to fully feel its effects. Oh, you are beautiful, she murmured, once again becoming a limp doll against him. It felt so good to be supported and cosseted by him.

Right now his support was literal and physical, like a flying buttress to her Gothic cathedral, but Euphemia harbored a deep knowing that he would find no issue emotionally and spiritually supporting her, either.

You are… an Adonis.

Most of her words were spoken into the underlayer of the fur that ringed his neck, so thick and velveteen in the winter clime. She wished she could do more, to take his face and kiss him, but words came more easily. Perhaps because talking came more naturally than… whatever she needed to do silently, to please him.

Suddenly aware of this, Euphemia took a deep breath to abate the wave of anticipation I can’t seem to stop talking, she laughed at herself, awkwardly, and wondered if she could feel the blood rise in her cheeks and how they burned. What if he wished for more silence, and she was effectively ruining the moment with her mutterings?

Then, she looked at him. Looked at the kindness in his eyes. She assessed the expression on his face, which held secrets she desperately needed to know. All nervousness melted away, and she knew.

It was just like that. She knew.

His beauty, though so much deeper than fur and skin, was apparent. Obscured somewhat in previous weeks from the mud and respectful propriety he always exhibited, she could see the perfection of his visage and the brilliant colors of his fur. I do believe that is it, Euphemia said without context, assuming that he could read her thoughts somewhat easily in this moment.

If he couldn’t, she proffered an explanation. Your name, that is. The very question that she had been musing on for some time, unable to puzzle out something justifiable. Dignified. Worthy of the man, whose previous moniker somehow aligned so strongly with both packs in her history. It seemed such a shame to change it when there was nothing that bound him closer to her past and present.

I know it as much as I know that I love you.

Love! There it was again, the word that vexed her (but was unavoidable in such a context, so close and intertwined with the man, and so very happy to be there). It felt somewhat ridiculous to say, this word she had only uttered to blood family, but here it was on her tongue so readily, so wanting to be used. 

Euphemia sighed. She then looked at him with a singular raised brow, attempting to convey her seriousness while maintaining the lightheartedness she would remember this moment by. If you cannot accept this, then at least I will the only one to call you Adonis, forevermore. Then she buried her face in the crook of his jaw, thinking she had never done something so significant in all her life.

My Adonis.

---

Love was not a thing he often had on his mind. Some seek it like moth to flame. Others, happen upon it like the wind carrying a seed to fertile soil. He had spent his youth in perpetual training, seeking to be chosen to by the elders to go on the Lunaventure, only to be passed up. It was never his time. He needed to learn more, train more. Maybe in a few winters, they said. Yet he was one of the few lucky ones that was starcast- chosen by the stars themselves.

His mission of learning other cultures, other stories was supposed to be of utmost importance above all else, at least for the first cycle. Love could be a distraction, but not to be ignored either. It was a delicate balance. He did not know if what he was experiencing now as going to be a hindrance or a great booster towards the goal of his people.

This thought was only fleeting, like a flea walking alone ones toes only to jump off a moment later. Barely noticeable, but still there until it is gone. Instead, the warm feeling of an endless love replaced any sense of anxiety that dared to enter his mind. Her enamoured laugh only solidified this fact.

Her comments on their stars meeting here made his chest swell. His lips were pulled back in a perpetual grin, and he felt completely lost in the features of her face as he memorized all the details that he could. Every speck of color in her eyes. Every twist and turn in her fur, little pathways to the soul. Her words seep into his hears, and she spoke using the words of the Starwoven. It melted his heart.

”Oh yes,” he said simply in reply, almost unable to come up with any other words in that moment from being so completely wrapped up in the feelings of the moment. The words of his own beauty filled the air, and when he normally would feel nothing but embarrassment, he felt elated instead.

”You, too, carry a beauty that any would pause to witness,” he whispers as she becomes limp against him, his own body wanting to crumble to the ground. He manages to resist and hold steadfast.

There is a slight tilt to his multi-colored visage when she speaks again. Ears are perked forward, ready to drink the honey of her voice. His name! Yes, she had been tasked with giving him this new name for his new life. He had not pressured her for quickness, but knew not this would be the moment. His tail wags faster behind him, the excitement of the moment growing as he will get to know his future.

Adonis! She had chosen his name, and he pushed it into his memory. ”Then let it be witnessed by the fire, the thread of Duskbreaker is set aside, and Adonis rises in his stead. The old name carried this one through dusk and into death. This new name shall carry this one into whatever dawn awaits,” he exclaims, making official the chosen name. It was not a name he knew, but that is part of the thrill. It was a name from a different place, a different culture. It was a name from someone so special, and it was a name to be cherished until his next naming.

”Do not guard your breath. Your words are ever welcome beneath this one’s ear,” he encourages, thought blissful in silence or the music of her voice.

Even more surprising is her confession of love, which causes his constant grin to grow into an undeniably gleeful smile. He does not speak yet, allowing her to continue about if he does not accept, then it would only be a name she used. She then pushed into the crook of his jaw, and he gave a very slight shake of his head, as not to disturb her position.

”This name shall rest upon this one until the next weaving of names. There is no shame within it. This one holds it with love and gratitude…as this one holds you,”he say softly in her ear, allowing himself to enjoy the moment with a bit of silence, the push of sweet scent from the flame engulfing them with the wind. The golden glow was glorious.

He laughs then, a bout of intense laughter arising from deep within. The color of gold and yellow, it was so strong…and the feeling of love was so pure, so insanely intense, it came out of his body through the laughter. He could not stop it if he wanted to. It was beautiful. It was pure. It was love, and love was the color of gold. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced in his life, and he did not want this moment to end. His own form waivers in the laughter, feeling as though he was about to fall to the ground but catching himself as to not harm Euphemia.

The flames were in full effect, if they knew it or not.