Blacktail Deer Plateau i remembered this song

@Aditya

There was something off about the melody. Frustration began to creep up Sorrel's spine as she struggled to remember the words, a wave of nausea and pressure building from her chest. It was the one thing she'd never forgotten, of all the things she'd ever learned! And now, she'd let the one thing keeping her here slip from her mind. Sorrel braced herself through the heaving, her body a straight line and her joints ready to buckle. A faint wheezing could be heard once one got close enough which Sorrel prayed no one would do. If she was going to die, she wanted to be alone.

probably much to her displeasure, aditya was in fact close by. he had been lurking around the rendezvous lately, flat and defeated from the events of the past days. his ears canted forward, curiously, as he heard coughing and wheezing, and he padded to the source of the noise, only to find sorrel, weak and shaking.

pity surged through him as he remembered what all had gone down. this poor girl. . .  he thought of her, and the red-pelted woman pema and shale had found, and felt nothing but shame. they could provide shelter, true enough. but to heal their bodies, their souls? only time could do that.

giving her advance warning he was coming through a light chuff, he smiled warmly, keeping his distance. "hello, sorrel," he greeted, keeping his voice soft and low; he still remembered their last interaction. "is there anything i can do for you?" he might as well ask; the girl sounded like death walking.

Sorrel didn't look at first. Rather, she squinted her eyes shut and tried to silence the humming in her ears; maybe then, Aditya wouldn't sound like such a monster. Slowly, the noise died out, and she was able to compose herself for a moment. One might add, a very, very short moment. Maman, Sorrel called out, albeit quietly. Being here with Kieran, with papa, it was exciting, but being with Maman, that was comfort. And in that moment, all Sorrel longed for was comfort.

She could feel her throat begin to swell as tears welled in her eyes. Maman, she said, this time with more solidity and pity alike. Then, Addy, in reference to her brother, though it could have easily been confused for Aditya. Sorrel was sick — physically and mentally —, scarred; all she wanted was to go home. But this was her home now and Maman was gone, and that weight was enough to send her onto her knees, prostrated with her head hung low.

she said 'adi'--or something like--though he didn't think it was meant for him; she still shrank from his presence, squeezing her eyes shut. he looked around, inhaling deeply as he tried to ascertain where kieran might be. if he was close, perhaps. . .

no. if she were to be his packmate, she must learn to trust him. or, rather, aditya must earn her trust. if not trust, then at least comfort, or some shred of affection. there was a cluster of tiny winter flowers near one of the dens, protected from the snow and cold by a small overhang.

taking a few of these small specimens gently in his teeth, adi crept over to sorrel and placed them at her paws, stepping back and laying down, bringing himself to her level. perhaps the pretty things would put her mind at ease, distract her from all the ugliness she'd been subjected to by various wolves.

"tumhaari liye," he whispered, then, realizing she didn't have his tongue, added, "er, sorry. fo-- pour. . .vous?" adi looked at her with a gentle smile, looking to see whether he'd gotten it right.

Sorrel was able to calm herself by a few breaths during Aditya's temporary absence. His return was slow and sweet, and though she was initially startled enough to bristle her hackles and flatten her ears to her skull, Sorrel slowly calmed herself. She peered at the flowers through blue slits, then side-eyed Aditya while she waited for his next move. Something about the way he spoke sent a wave of tranquility over her, though not for longer than a moment.

Toi, she whispered, Pour toi. It indicated a different relationship between them than did 'vous'; one that included a sense of equality. If she was to ever address him, she might use vous, for she saw him on an authoritative level near Grayday, but he had no reason to respect her. If he was to know the reasoning behind this correction, he might have disagreed, but it was how Sorrel thought. It was how she felt.

"toi," he repeated obediently, knowing she was correcting his grammar. he hadn't heard another form of 'you' in the common tongue, but he was well familiar with the concept of multiple words for the second-person, as he had tried to explain to pema in one lesson. "pour toi."

aditya blinked softly at her. "you are ill," he murmured softly, sympathy blooming over his features. "shall i fetch pema? she can help you. she's a talented healer."

she probably knew that already, but perhaps talk of the woman would soothe sorrel. pema had a calming effect on everyone she interacted with.

Sorrel shook her head and gave a low groan as if to wordlessly beg Aditya not to leave her side. Besides, she didn't want Pema there, otherwise, she would have searched her out on her own. I'm okay, she insisted, now nodding her head slowly and trying her best to meet Adi's gaze, Really, okay. She wasn't by any means okay, or even close to okay, or even okay enough to lie about being okay with a straight face. With one look at her expression, anyone could tell that even she knew she was being facetious.

he stayed put at her command, keeping low and quiet. he knew how it worked with the girl, now. for a moment, he wished pema would come of her own volition; sorrel was clearly more comfortable with a woman around, and his presence felt intrusive and brash.

but she clearly didn't want him to leave, and so he stayed. but he didn't know what to do. like much of the time with children--or, in this case, a young adult stuck in a childlike state because of some past trauma--he felt too grown-up, too much of an authority figure to relate to them.

without thinking, he began to murmur-sing a tune his mother had entertained him with, once upon a time. it was meant to be a tongue-twister, the last line urging the listener to repeat the first line. . .but she didn't have his tongue, so she, of course, could only listen. he hoped she'd take comfort from it, at least.

"chanda chamke cham cham, chikhen chaukhanna chor,
chiti chaate chini chatori chinikhor. . .
kitna mushkil yeh gaana zaara gaake dikhana."

song is "Chanda Chamke" from Fanaa; not linking cuz i'm lazy lol

trying to fade this out, don't mind me

Sorrel was lulled by the soft song that Adi sang; though she didn't understand his words, she felt calmed by their utterance. The anxiety and panic, the illness and death that she had felt seemed to simmer away as she allowed the calm to sweep over her.