Redtail Rise "Like love. Love and dying have been my life.”

@Sanguinus - this is pretty close to Elysium!

the boy had ventured further than he had originally planned. his limbs had simply continued to carry him without reason or destination. he allowed them to act as they wished and enjoyed the trek that they created for him. he wandered past familiar and unfamiliar in a blend of wintery backdrops and endlessly snowy scenery. his mind whirred like a piece of machinery for the duration of his hike. he thought about everything that he could, still finding the thoughts would come and go as they pleased. sometimes he pondered melancholy things, and other times he thought of the good that had entered his life. it had left him with a peculiar mixture of emotions by the time he reached the rise.
 
once there, the savage young man turned his attention to the area. he scoped out a small path that would allow him to reach higher ground. he did well to determine that it wasn’t a dangerous trail to take. when he had found a perch for himself, illidan stopped and looked out across the earth that was beneath him. the wind lashed against his coat and drove icy needles into his shoulder and back, but he withstood. in the distance, he could see a herd of deer move carefully across a stretch of open land. they were only a few, but they did well to remain together and passed without disturbance.
 
the boy lifted his chin and released a mournful howl that echoed against the stone behind him. the wind carried it away, but the feelings still remained.

Rumors had spread like wildfire among the fowl and other fauna, their whispers echoing in the depths of his mind as he trudged his way to towards the vague location that had been described to him when asked. Apparently a local pack was hosting a festival and as a man who never experienced such odd entertainment in his life, found himself drawn to the idle gossip that was thrown amidst the wind for any passerby to hear. So with only a loose idea as to where and when exactly this celebration was going to commence, Sanguinus spent the better half of his day roaming the western stretch of the taiga searching for any clues as to location of this alleged pack.

In the end he was met with little success, his legs weary from travel and mind spent on the broken record that played the territory's description over and over again in his head. Truth be told he was nearly convinced this entire festival had been nothing but foul trickery of the nestlings, for he found no sign of any gatherings or really any life at all within the surrounding locations. In fact it was only at the sorrowful cry of some stranger did the stygian swathed wayfarer realize he'd come so close to crossing paths with another being. Charcoal ears instantly flickered attentively atop his crown as he drew his attention to the mirthless song, heart gnawing restlessly at his soul as he wondered what had caused such a joyless melody to be tossed like a rag doll amongst the brutal midwinter breeze. 

the rise would not prove to be successful in chasing away the restlessness that had settled in his bones. he had a feeling that he could wander for the rest of his days and never find contentment in what he found. there was a chance that this was simply how life was intended to be. he was supposed to find himself at the claws of something merciless fate. he was never supposed to find happiness, and that was alright... wasn't it? after all, the idea of obtaining joy like he might obtain a meal to eat was rather foolish in itself. some would argue that happiness could be found in any scenario, as long as one had the right mindset. illidan preferred to keep away from this philosophy, as it seemed to put far too much on him.

he had found that simply existing in a state of 'okay' was enough. it was the closest that he would find to what he wanted. even still, most days did not leave him feeling okay. he was still plagued with the images of his father's death. he was still haunted by the image of his brother fighting against them on a battlefield that should not have existed. even since he had been reunited with his family, there were memories of their recent interactions that caused his flesh to rise and a chill to creep down the length of his spine.

with a heavy breath, the young ghost moved from his perch and back down the rise until he had found himself at the base. there, his limbs were stiff as he stood in the snow. the cold of the wind beat against his frame with wicked intent. the wild and jagged hairs that stood along his neck and shoulders seemed to dance like dangerous quills. it was here that the wildling caught sight of a stranger in the distance. the figure was cloaked in ink, but the dull light of the grey sky cast a reddish hue along their shoulders and back. illidan furrowed his brow in the direction of the unfamiliar shape. he waited to see if they would draw closer.

Despite the feverish curiosity in his step, Sanguinus remained steadfast when the first glimpse of the youthful figure entered his line of sight. It appeared as if the ashen stripling was the harbinger of sorrow, his angular form taking wave after brutal wave of the frigid breeze as he descended to the mountain's base, eventually halting his steps upon noticing the crimson dappled champion standing not a far ways off. 

And where it had been the wretchedness of the young man's song to capture the wayfarer's attention, it was his coyotish appearance that got the man to stay. After all he'd never encountered a mixed blood before or, at least not to his knowledge he hadn't. They were more myth than anything else to northern stretches of the world, for the harsh tundras caused many to choose only those possessing the best stature for breeding and well, a coyote didn't exactly make that list. 

the cold had made a home in him. just as much as the quiet misery that he carried, the chilling breeze had found a way to burrow beneath his skin and construct a permanent place of residence. he carried it around like a blanket draped across his lean frame. only some paid enough attention to see either thing. most never commented on it to him. it was a conversation that some would rather not experience, he would have imagined.
 
the stranger with the bloody highlights in his coat did not turn away. he remained where he was and illidan approached carefully. he kept his dark hood low to the ground to keep this throat secure and well-protected. the lean frame of the young wildling seemed to move knowingly across the harsh terrain until he had all but closed the space between them. it was there that he held his ground and finally drew his head upward.
 
“is that blood or… just the color of your coat?” illidan couldn’t help but to ask.