Deepwood Weald just a drop of water in an endless sea

@Sulukinak still remained. he gave her credit for it. the girl had seemed the fleeting, shadowy type to vanish after a while—yet after so many had left morningside and not returned, still she remained.

her loyalty should be commended.

aditya strolled through the weald, trying to pick up pieces of her scent to follow. he meant to reconnect, especially given dutch's relationship with simbelmyne. where did that leave the northern woman? she'd clearly been fond of his son. perhaps she felt alone.

he couldn't provide her that sort of comfort—but he'd taken a liking to her, and he could be a father figure and friend, if nothing else.

she lingered in the woodland, waiting.

news of cen had not yet reached her.

seven weeks, he had said; but there was no sign of him now.

she had gone to see red leaf once, and at the woman's sleeping place had been no sign either.

sulukinak was lost; she stayed to the shadows and watched as life went on for everyone. she saw the elder man, aditya, and followed him merely for something to keep her occupied.

as her mind wandered, her steps grew loud and her usual stealth failed her.

it didn't fail her all too much; his hearing had gone to pot, and it wasn't until she was almost on his heels that he spun to face the shadow-pelted woman, a smile on his face.

hey, ladki, he greeted warmly. how are you? you look well.

there was a particular warmth in his heart for sulukinak that he couldn't explain. perhaps her age; she was as old as his daughters, give or take, and he had lumped her into the fold.

or his hope that she would be dutch's mate. perhaps it still would happen.

but beyond contingencies, he was fond of her, undoubtedly.

it felt odd to be here now. to walk the familiar trails, or even to study the unfamiliar ones; she knew she was only waiting until the man cen came, and then -- well, sulukinak wasn't sure about that either. would she go? she did not feel welcome to stay, and she did not know if she could fully trust the man who claimed to be her family.

wasn't dutch her family? they did not share blood, though.

his father spoke, and sulukinak realized she had stopped and stared at the dirt for a touch too long. the old man did not appear to notice; it was a brief oversight.

a tense twitch came to the corners of her mouth, as close to a smile as sulukinak had ever managed.

i am well, she answers.

she finds her way to his side and settles there, still thinking.

listening to the trees.

do you like the forest?

i do, he admitted with a smile. 

he let silence fall between them for a few moments before speaking again, summoning the ghosts of his past.

once, my mate and i found a place called 'phoenix maplewood,' he explained. and i've never been happier than there. i thought we could go on forever in that place.

adi shrugged. i love the trees, he admitted. sometimes i feel like the open sky holds all your secrets, and they press down upon you. . . 

and now he was waxing macabre. 

sorry, ladki, he murmured. do you like the forest? i remember you said you were from the northern plains.

he described a place she could not even imagine. many questions came to mind; what was a maple? was it a forest like this one? why would he leave it? who was 'we'?

instead of voicing these, sulukinak was distracted by the question he posed to her, and the girl swallowed her thoughts.

it is dark here, and easy to hide. and there are many secret places. i like it more than the underdark. there, it was hard to find places to remain hidden and so they were coveted and protected.

still, his mention of never leaving that maple-place nagged at her.

i wait for a man, for... uncle, to come here. he says we will go. she did not know when now, having lost count of the days.

he was entranced by the way she used language, and wondered what the words would be in her native tongue. but the charm of the words faded as the meaning set in, and adi cocked his head in query, gazing at her with solemn golden eyes.

you're leaving? he asked softly.

of course, sulukinak was free to go, ultimately. she had been unwaveringly loyal to dutch and morningside; what more did she owe them? and if family were coming to take her away, she ought to go.

still, though. . .he'd miss the quiet girl. and it was impossible to trust the word of a man he'd never met.

where will you go? aditya added, keeping his voice gentle.

he looked at her the way dutch did, sometimes.

he spoke softly, his voice steeped in kindness which sulukinak had not earned.

what did it matter if she stayed? dutch had his wife. he would soon have his children, if they had not been born already. the harvest was not welcome here and sulukinak did not feel safe knowing that the hungry goddess of the sea ice went opposed.

aditya wondered where they would go and sulukinak drew a breath, and shrugged.

i go where he goes. i want to learn; he has shown me caribou. he says i am a good hunter. these were another variation of kindness. because the opinion of this man cen was so important to her — as blood, which sulukinak missed in a desperate way — she could not refuse the chance to be with another of her kind.

even if she wasn't sure; even if she did not really know him.

he told me seven weeks. that was... she thought quickly, and then her ears twitched up and forward, and her eyes caught a shine. soon. so soon? days, to go. her heart was suddenly in her stomach!

how had she lost count so easily? the day of their leaving would be anytime, now!

he smiled. he hadn't witnessed her hunting himself, but he believed it. and no caribou to be found here, if she were to truly hone her skills with this uncle of hers.

seven weeks from when? aditya wondered, but didn't say it aloud.

well, we'll miss you, he replied. i certainly will. as much as i've traveled, i have found it's quite nice to keep seeing the same faces in the same place.

would they, though? she imagined the man dutch might try to convince her against it, and that was all. his wife would not care; there were few sulukinak knew here, and she kept away, in the shadows too often.

when aditya spoke of familiar faces her eyes brightened with curiosity, her ears twitching. the flow of faces at the bison hunt had overwhelmed her; the new faces upon the glacier had not stayed long; those of morningside now, she barely knew.

she could not relate.

it will be good to be with family. she comments, and gives a small nod as if to convince herself. you are happy here, as father of dutch, and grandfather to the little ones?

oh, yes, he replied fervently, his smile widening. i cannot tell you, sulukinak, how good it is to be around family. for me, anyway. . .i—

he broke off with a wry chuckle, shaking his head. there was sorrow in his eyes, though, and he looked away for a few moments before returning his gaze back to hers.

i have been a wanderer all my life, aditya said gravely. father of many children, most of which are scattered to the winds. some of which i've never met. it's my greatest regret to not have known them. so being here with dutch and his children—my grandchildren—means more to me than anything.

adi was still smiling, but it was rueful now. i am glad you have family, ladki, he murmured. family is most important. never forget that.

he would see her off when the time came.