Lost Creek Hollow lions in winter

It had taken some convincing to get Adeline to agree to step across the borders of Easthollow. Since she’d return, she hasn’t had any desire to step back over. She’d made a mistake the first time around and she’d much rather stay in the comfort of her own home with the company of her family new and old. @Grayday just happened to look particularly cute when he wanted to drag her out and show her the world isn’t all bite but he doesn’t quite have the ability to settle the anxiety welling in her chest the further they go.

Adeline remains close, brushing against him any time either of them place a step a little too close in their paths. She complains some (snow is everywhere, it all looks the same) but she manages to bite back her tongue for a while to try and enjoy the purpose of their escape.

When they reach the Hollow, she finds herself rather intrigued. The further in they go, the less snow there is and she doesn’t have to shake out her paws every few steps. Some of the streams are still frozen in places but the water moves freely in most areas. She follows one stream that is faster than all the others where it ultimately leads her to a tall waterfall that tilts her head upward for inspection. Adeline turns her head to glance at her companion only to find him no longer at her side. Her bright green eyes widen as she spins around in a panic. How long had he been gone from her side? Where did they divert directions? She’d been far more interested in the surrounding to realize they’d separated.

It'd been a hard decision, but eventually, Day decided to try and prompt Adeline away from home. He knew that he couldn't guarantee her safety, but neither could the borders. The way she'd shied away from even the carcass of a fox got him thinking, and since then, he just couldn't stop.

You can't stay gunshy forever, greeneyes.

The simple statement had earned him her ire, but it was worth it to see her out here, exploring with the sort of inquisitive joy he'd always wanted for her. And it felt good that it was him beside her, showing her that the world could still be beautiful even after it hurt you. He liked it a little more than he should.

"Wait up," he called when she'd been out of sight a little too long. No more than a minute, but he wasn't going to bring a hurt Adeline. Not today. He caught up soon enough and padded to her side. "I'm an old man, now. I can't keep up with those legs of yours."

Briefly, his eyes flitted over the waterfall. He'd been here before and had seen it already, but it was still a pretty piece of the land. "It's a good thing we didn't have anything like this at Silvertip," he said, eyes sliding back toward the girl. "You would've been jumping off it."

Daredevil Addie. She was still in there, somewhere. It wasn't a question of whether or not he wanted to see her revived - it was a matter of whether or not his heart could take that kind of stress.

It feels like the minutes tick by as she searches for him but no more than a few seconds later, he materializes before her eyes. She releases a hard breath of relief just as her feet hit the ground and she closes the distance between them. When she gets close, she smooths to a trot and tries to brush off the panic that’d quickly overwhelmed her. Flashes of the isolation rush to the forefront of her mind and she closes her eyes, leaning against his shoulder as he angles back toward the waterfall. 

His words are sarcastic but she can’t help but look over the rushing water in the distance. She even gives him a little awkward chuckle that is silenced quickly, her breathing slowing to normal. 

“Maybe if it weren’t so cold today,” she says playfully, looking back to him with a bump to the shoulder. The weather wouldn’t change anything and her she can only feign the desire for so long.

Adeline moves ahead a few steps, attempting to subtly glance back every few seconds to make sure he was near, and makes her way closer to the waterfall. There is only so much she remembers from Silvertip, most memories are blurred and crossed out from her youth. Those that she does remember—good or bad—she tries to cling to. “Maybe—” she trails off in thought, jaws snapping back together. “Maybe we could go visit Silvertip sometime?”

Her fear is palpable - scented. Grayday's nostrils flare and so does something in his heart, but he squashes all that down for her benefit. If she wanted to be fussed over, she'd say something.

More alarm bells ring when his humor falls a little flat. Well, that's not such an unusual thing, but the brittleness of her laughter is. Something tells him she's not enjoying this as much as he'd thought, as much as he'd hoped. "We can go back," he opens his mouth to say, but she beats him to it, and his jaw snaps shut to hold in his immediate urge to acquiesce.

"Yeah," he says after a moment, deciding that it's a doable thing, what she's asking. "We'll need to wait until springtime. Maybe longer, if you don't want to bring Sunny and Dawn along with us. Or - maybe Valette could take you, if you wanted to go right away," he hurried to say, though he was at loathe to send her out there with anyone else. He'd let her go once, and it'd left him a little wary of doing so again.

Adeline is far from ready to make a long trip away from Easthollow. It’s enough of a strain on her now to get this far, knowing she’ll have to work on the anxiety tagging along. When he mentions his children, she stiffens and tries to brush it off. They’d been introduced to her upon her return and she spends more time with them than she’d ever imagined. Even in Amber’s absence, there is another burden weighed down on her.

“I’ll wait,” she still answers with a shrug. “It’s not going anywhere, right? And I’ll go with Valette if you don’t want to go.”

It isn’t her first choice to go with Valette, having only suggested it so that he would be at her side. Without him there, she can come up with a reason to not go at all or to wait until he would be the one to accompany her. Trying to take it one step at a time, she shakes her head a little, working to brush the plans off their plate when it’s likely to be sometime in the future.

“Let’s go,” she says. Instead of turning around the way they’d came, Adeline circles the bank that leads to the waterfall and makes an outline around the rushing water.

lol, you always mess me up and get me changing tenses in the middle of a thread XD

Day waited with bated breath for her answer. It didn't matter how much older he was, or whether or not they were best friends - he would always see Adeline as something to be feared. A great and powerful force, a wolf like nature herself. Something about her seemed diminished, lately, but not even that could change her in his eyes. Without sight, he made her into something both soft and hard, steadfast and tempermental.

Even when her response was lacklustor instead of whipcrack. Even when the tone of her voice offered compromise instead of demands. "If it's all the same, I'd rather go with you," he replied, wishing there was some way to restore what she'd lost on her journey. I tried to warn you, he thought, and then, I always want you around.

He held the words back. And when she moved forward instead of back, he held back even more. We don't have to, and The kids are waiting for me -

But this was Adeline, and he knew he didn't owe her the dust off his paws, but that didn't stop him from wanting to give her the world.

"Lead the way," he said, shooting forward so that they were walking side-by-side, rather than what he'd offered.

He agrees to go with her and it’s enough to put a smile back on her features, feeling the tension in her chest dissipate and for a brief moment, things are normal. She isn’t exactly surrounded by her family and the familiar surroundings of Easthollow but Grayday has managed to carry some of that with him. It is strong closest to him and so she keeps their distance apart small even as she carries on through an incline. The ground turns rocky as it goes up, the familiar effort of Silvertip beneath her paws, but it plateaus soon enough.
 
“It’s pretty here,” she says over her shoulder with a swish of her tail. It didn’t take too long to get here and the longer she stays, the sillier she feels over her panic. She hadn’t much enjoyed her time away when she was alone but perhaps it isn’t so bad with someone by her side.

They forged on, the heavy pall that'd been cast over the journey seeming to lighten the further they went. Adeline seemed to be getting over some of her discomfort, and Day was just happy to have a few hours alone with her. There was never time for these kinds of things when they had the whole pack around them, or even when they found themselves on their own at some far-off corner of Easthollow. There was always something to do. Here, there was nothing but the woods around them, the flash of sunlight off of Adeline's coat, the way their shoulders bumped together every now and again - perhaps on accident, but more probably by design.

"Yeah," he agreed, ineloquently. "Probably prettier in the summer and autumn," he mused, looking around at how bare-boned some of the trees looked next to their coniferious brethren. Still, the rivers and streams were a sight to see, even though they just looked like silvery sparkles to him. "I'll admit - it's all kind of lost on me," he said quietly, a little sigh hitching his breath. "I don't know how much longer these eyes will last me."

Grayday makes a good point on what the hollow may look like in the upcoming months. She doesn’t remember much of what spring is like but the summer and fall is fresh in her mind. Winter isn’t something she’s taking a liking to so she’ll be happy when it’s over and the snow is all gone. “I bet so,” she murmurs, lost in thought until he speaks again.

Adeline stops in her tracks and turns back to face him. Her brows knit between her apple eyes as she focuses on his paling brown eyes. They seem grayer than usual but she isn’t sure what to make of them.

“What do you mean?”

It it were anyone but Adeline, Day might've been frustrated by the frequent stops and starts they were taking. As it was, he was simply pleased to have her all to himself. This was less of a scouting trip and more of a field trip, since Grayday had already scoped out the hollow a few times before. So when she turned to peer into his eyes, he merely stopped as well, holding still enough for her to see what she was looking for. He was used to people looking when he brought it up, and sometimes even when he didn't.

What caught him was her question. He remembered telling her about his eyes when he'd first met her - although, she'd been very young, then, and it was possible she'd forgotten. Still, she knew that he'd gone to Donnelaith to seek a remedy to his fading vision. Maybe she thought it would cure him completely. Day had certainly hoped so.

"I'm going blind, greeneyes," he said simply. "The healer I talked to gave me some advice to slow it down, but time keeps marching on. I've got some good years still left in me, but..." He laughed, then, to fight the bitter taste that'd welled up in his throat. "I don't even know what you look like anymore," he admitted. "Or the kids. I think the last time I saw you clearly, you only came up to my shoulder."

It hurt to know he would never see the beauty he'd always known Adeline would become. In some ways, it hurt even more than being unable to see his own children grow up. He'd never known what Sunny and Dawn looked like, but he'd seen Adeline when she was just a cub, had watched her learn and play. It seemed strange to look at her now, this red-gold-brown blur, and know that it would only get worse from here.

But he didn't need to see her to know that she was beautiful, and on days like this, it was enough just to know.

Adeline blinks a few times, expression unmoving for several seconds as the realization sets in. Her ears lower against her head and splay back, grinding her jaw together. It feels familiar and her heart lurches up into her throat to reveal a hole in her chest months old that is nothing more than scar tissue. Having forgotten causes a chill to roll down her spine and she looks down at the ground.

“You can’t see me?” she says, her voice strained against the force to shove it back down. His confession seems to contradict one sentence to the next as she tries to process what she’s been given. If he doesn’t even know what she looks like now, what will it be in the future? “How can you… just…” she struggles for the right words, “not see?” She hadn’t understood the importance of it those few months ago and had only been concerned with herself and how she felt and now he isn’t going to be able to see anymore?

He’d gone, she reminds herself, but for nothing.

"I can," he countered quickly, cutting in after her first question. The tone of her voice set his teeth on edge - he wanted to break the tension with jokes and light-heartedness, but that'd never worked with Adeline before. So he waited for her to finish before responding, wishing there was some way to change the facts just so that he could have a better, more satisfactory answer for her.

"I can see you - you're just... blurry. You're a wolf-shape with a muzzle, and this close, I can still see those pretty green eyes. But if I step back - " he shuffled away from her until those apple-green eyes blended into the tan blur of her face. It was only a half-dozen yards away. "They kind of blend in with the rest of you," he finished lamely, trotting back toward her. "It's not a big deal, greeneyes. Not right now," he assured her. "Some of the details are getting pretty fuzzy, but I'm not going to walk into a bear or off a cliff or anything. I'm okay."

He bumped his nose against her shoulder, trying to comfort her.

Her eyes began to blur as tears well up and she blinks them back—or tries too—to prevent them from spilling over onto her cheeks. The breath lodged in her throat slowly releases but the constriction remains a threat. He assures her that he can see her and demonstrates the point where he really can’t see her anymore. When he returns, assuring her, bumping her shoulder, she turns her head to rest her face into him. Her tears burst and soak into his fur but she holds back the sob lingering in her throat. Her breaths are long and calculated to hide the struggle and when she pulls back, she turns her face away.

He didn't know exactly why she was crying, but a vague sense of understanding was enough for him to say: "Aw, honey - I'm okay. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." He was reminded of the heat of flames against his muzzle, his father's voice cracking as the man called out to him. Grayday! Come to me! Follow my voice. Mud had seemed like a god on that day, leading him to safety, but the very next, Day had heard the rattling cough in the man's lungs, and had been reminded that his father was a mortal like any other. That he could and would die one day, and that, with a cough like that, the day could be very soon.

Mud had lived - was still alive, the last time Day'd seen him - but he still remembered the sinking, powerless feeling of realizing his father's mortality.

"C'mere, greeneyes," he said, negating the need to follow through with the order by moving closer to her on his own. He pushed his forehead against her cheek breathed a soft sigh. "Don't worry about me, alright? I'm a tough son of a bitch, and this ain't gonna bring me down."

Grayday tries to smooth everything over with words and it takes a moment or more to feel the impact. She forces herself to remember he can still see, but not as well, and he's still healthy, but the overwhelming fear she may lose him or it had been her fault had taken a grip on her. Adeline heaves a long sigh and leans in to him, feeling him press into her cheek. "I don't want you to ever leave," she tells him after a few seconds. She keeps herself into him; as long as he's close she doesn't have to worry.

Lord, but he could never stand to see a girl cry. Day lowered himself to his haunches and hooked a paw over Adeline's shoulders, pulling her in so that her face was hidden from his.

"I won't go anywhere you can't follow, babe," he said after a moment. It wasn't the whole truth, but death was so final, and seemed so far away. They could worry about that some other day. And there was something else - a  promise he'd made not too long ago, back before Amber left. Before he'd even been sure he'd be a father. Spring was coming, and his days at Easthollow were numbered. He thought about broaching the topic right then, but he couldn't find the words to say it. Not when she was falling apart just being next door to the pack. Not when she was already worried he'd leave her behind. "I always wanna be with you," he said instead.

It’s a little rough but she collapses in to him anyway, staring at the ground by their feet. She feels his hear thump through his chest and into hers and her eyes close, listening to the promises. The tip of her tail thumps gently against the ground and she heaves a sigh of relief. She’d made the mistake of being away from her family for as long as she had and she never wanted to make that decision, never wanted to be faced of being without them. “Okay,” she finally says, quietly, and into his fur.

"That's my girl," he praised, poking the back of her neck with his snout. "Is that enough exploring for the day, or do you want to keep going?"

They hadn't been out too long, so they could keep going if she wished, but Day was already beginning to feel guilty for pressuring her to come out with him. Maybe she wasn't ready or maybe it just wasn't the right time, but this trip seemed to be dragging up all manner of unpleasant thoughts and feelings for the girl.

"Or we could just sit here for a while," he added, not minding that option in the least. "Maybe catch a snack and watch the sunset?"

Adeline closes her eyes when she feels his nose against the back of her neck, slowly leaning further into him. At first, she isn’t sure how to answer. Most of her would like to go home and be somewhere she’s familiar with but she’s equally content just sitting here, listening to his voice, feeling the slight puff of air against her eyes when he turns toward her. “We can stay a while,” she says after a quiet, considering moment. He isn’t going to leave her side and with that, she has nothing to fear.

Alright was on the tip of his tongue, but when a moment had passed and he's still not spoken the word, Grayday decided that her statement didn't really need an answer. The air was cool and the forest peaceful around them, and he was at loathe to spoil the quiet that'd settled around them.

He just sat there and found that his breathing had adjusted to hers, so that their breaths came out together in plumes of white vapor - and he was hard pressed to say whether this was the most achingly awful moment of his life, or the most achingly perfect. He supposed, at the end of the day, that it all depended on what kind of man he was.

And on that day, he found that he was not a very good man.