It had been another sleepless night. All of Njal's energy went in to protecting Maera during the day, from the moment she woke up to well after she fell asleep beside him. He watched her slumber with the diligence he should have given to the other children; all of that energy, all of that fear he held in losing the last of his kin, was directed upon the young girl. It seemed as if the days were growing too short, too fast - the glacier spent most of its days cloaked in the darkness of an oncoming winter, and that was something Njal was steadily beginning to loathe.

He wanted to run away. He wanted to return to the creek, or head somewhere less dangerous to them all - but most important to him, although he would never admit it aloud, Njal wanted to leave. To return to the road and not look back. The responsibility placed upon him to be a single parent was far too much at this point. He wasn't equipped. Perhaps the guilt he felt (conscious or not) was what fueled his desperate need to keep an eye on his remaining child.

The sky was streaked in gold, like a summer field. Like Kindred in the peak of the hotter seasons. Njal could see the light from the den where the pair of Sveijarns roosted - and he was suddenly pulled away from Maera's side by the sight of it. Yearning for simpler days. He would be within earshot - within running distance, surely - if anything were to threaten her. Or so he told himself.

But already the man was going farther. His strides devoured the land as he dove between the trees, carving paths with his wide body, and lending a thunderous applause to an otherwise still landscape. A dead landscape. When he stopped, he was out of breath - and faced with the eastern edge of the territory, far outside of his mental boundary of permitted distance from Maera; he was breathing hard, and yet the energy of his spontaneous run did not echo through his dead-eye stare.

The chill in the air was more obvious due to the puffs of white that drifted from his lips; but he felt only the burn of his lungs. The heat of his pulse and the drumming of his heart - alive, he felt alive. It was a feeling so alien to the exhausted man that he couldn't fathom it; and so he paced back and forth, an itch to his flesh that wouldn't leave him. He had come to the edge of the territory and... And...?

And nothing. He thought bitterly, forcing himself to stop his strutting and turn around. Njal moved back towards the tree line and that was the moment he spotted Malachi. The boy spoke swiftly -

Is... everything alright? - and was met with a narrow-eyed scowl.

Njal turned away from him for a moment to collect himself - and when he looked back the scowl was gone, but not much of the sentiment. Alright? What kind of question was that. I'm... Frustrated, angry, hurt, how many descriptive words could he concoct right this second? I'm not sure how I am. Ah, that was a better answer. A safer one. There was no point in raging in front of the Alpha. Njal's brow furrowed and his eyes, drooping thoughtfully as they passed over the soil, would not stop straying. I don't know what to do.

He knew, somewhere inside that thick skull of his, that anger was not needed here. That being bent out of shape about the situation was a natural response, but not something he should subject others to - especially the young leader. But looking upon Malachi, even just glimpsing him out of Njal's periphery, he realized that there was some spite there. He hadn't just come back to an empty nest, but to a pack that had been essentially usurped from him; rank had never meant anything to the warrior before and yet, with all the other things missing from his life, redirecting his anger towards something as trivial as his position in the pack was... Well, it was something. A tangible thing that was closer in grasp than his missing wife.

But that wasn't what brought him out here, to the edge of the land. Thoughts of Malachi's rise to power were not so prevalent upon his mind; he was thinking of one very specific thing. What if. What if he left? What if he abandoned Maera to the care of Duskfire and its young leader? Tuwawi was gone, Larus was lost, Valtyr - so much had gone wrong. So what if one more thing goes wrong. It was a horrid thought, one which Njal should have banished as soon as it slipped to the surface of his mind. He couldn't help but entertain the idea though - leave, abandon everything, and find happiness elsewhere.

Njal paced along the edge of the land. He could smell where it ended - the ammonia of urine, the wolf musk of Danica and Malachi together, a myriad of other scents... The dwindling mark of Tuwawi. The pace of his heart slowed to something more normal, but the weight in his chest was still unbearable. He stared out in to the dark beyond as he came to a halt, lingering in the quiet - and forgetting for a moment that Malachi was even present.

A spark of life finally came to the beast. In one instant he was staring out in to space, and the next, he was turning and dashing for Malachi - almost as if he intended to do the boy harm. But he slipped to a halt as he came upon the leader, leaving great gashes in the dirt. I'm going to leave. There wasn't any true conviction in his voice, but a void - like the dark which had captured his interest moments prior - and before Malachi had a chance to respond, he continued.

I want to leave, but I know I cannot. For Maera's sake, I cannot. A heavy sigh shuddered through him, and his head dropped, indicating the shame in the sentiment. But that need she has of me, for me to be present and to protect her, it weighs too heavily upon my shoulders. It was this that made him run so far, and yet, the weight of his responsibilities also rooted him. Njal turned his golden gaze upon Malachi but the darkness in them - coupled with the sunken and dark rings of his sleep deprivation - made him appear ghoulish.

When Tuwawi - no. If she returns unharmed, I don't know what I'll do. The ambiguous statement hung in the air between them, and for a moment silence bloomed; Njal pulled back and began his pacing anew, although at a slower pace - tracing along the chasms he had dug in to the earth. Everything lay bare before the young leader. Njal's conflict was too much for one to bear, and thus he was forced to share the burden... Although it was probably not something Malachi was equipped to deal with. Maybe I'll take Maera from here and find somewhere safe. Somewhere truly safe, not the glacier. Not Swiftcurrent... But, I... I don't know. As the last words left him, Njal's pacing halted abruptly and he breathed a great sigh, deflating with his indecision.

Since... Since seeing Maera. Maybe sooner. When I was told Tuwawi had left - I didn't want to believe it, but, He grit his teeth and turned away from the boy, his gaze sliding along the frosted earth. The sentence floated in the air, incomplete, until a new thought drifted in to his fevered mind.

What if I leave and she comes back? What if she never- No, he couldn't fathom that. He couldn't think of that possibility even if it was so obvious. The words caught in his throat and he, wanting to scream and roar, breathed a great puff of air in to the morning light. Njal's head bowed briefly as he tried to collect his thoughts, which were many, and varied. It proved to be quite difficult.

And where could we go? I do not want a wanderer's life for my daughter. She deserves better than that. They all deserved so much more, but he had failed them. As a father, as a leader... How could he even hope for something greater than what he had now?

With his mind set upon so many things, the weather had slipped on through the cracks; Njal had forgotten about the impending winter, and as soon as Malachi reminded him, the wind went out of his proverbial sails. The boy was right, of course. Njal couldn't leave - with or without Maera - with winter on its way. This moment served to harden his heart, though. He had made his decision and now was forced to wait, to give pause before action, which was something Njal was not very good at. Winter was no time to be traveling, especially at Maera's young age, but at the same time.. How safe was this glacier? It was harsh even without the added threat of heavy snow and limited resources.

More thoughts to add to the pile. His face set in a grimace, a very brief moment of pain and frustration, before that fell away and Njal was left staring blankly towards the trees again. But he had been dissuaded - Malachi had achieved at least that much. With a huff, the man turned and began a slow walk - but paused, long enough to glance towards the boy and mutter, Thank you. I appreciate the counsel, Malachi. He needed to see his daughter now. He needed to go to her and be with her, even if his mind was wandering. When the spring comes, we will be leaving. Although the ex-leader had no idea where they would go... He wouldn't let that stop him. There was a safe haven out there for his tiny family and he would find it.

As silence dwarfed the conversation, Njal turned and began hiking away.