Honeyed Pasture Chasing the wind

A frown appeared, and he’d felt bad for having asked. He’d wanted to find a place that they could all enjoy the entirety of, but he’d also wanted to settle with an old friend. For the second time in his life, he’d chosen a selfish path over a selfless one. It made his stomach churn, feeling as if he was dishonouring his mother’s memory, but he couldn’t go back now. His mind had been made up and, when he stopped and thought about it, he was happy. To think that he’d be near to an old friend, a familiar face with whom he’d spoken his favoured language, made him glad. Then, when Zoratto was won over, he was ecstatic.

“That’s fine,” the male voiced, smiling. “You don’t have to live on top of it.” If that was the compromise that had to be made, then he’d accept it. It wasn’t a terrible thing, really, and allowed for the both of them to have a home for the winter without losing the other. Another thought hit him then, and he’d asked, “Will you never climb a mountain?” Alastor’s head tilted slightly, regarding his companion with a curious look. “I could help you deal with whatever it is that you don’t like about them.” The offer was made with good intentions in mind. He didn’t want the other to miss out on anything just because there was something about mountains that bothered him.