Totoka River she's the giggle at a funeral

the winter months have been slow for them, but samothes finds he does not mind. he feels as though he has been molting slowly, easing the old skin off bit by bit so that the new skin underneath is not raw. most of his time is spent in the forest, focused on staying warm and enjoying the time to think. he misses the company of the  sylph, but they had not been close enough for her absence to be more than a fading sting.

he leaves the forest, moving absently along the coast. perhaps it's time to step up recruitment on his end, though part of him thinks if he leaves the forest for too long he'll return to find nobody and nothing. (and then again - so what? his loyalty is fickle enough and there are other packs close enough besides). the air nip at him, snow falls, but it is not unbearably cold.

it's on his way home that he sees her, and suddenly the chill seems much more urgent. but he's nothing if not smooth, and so the scholar smiles slow and broad, not bothering to announce himself before slipping beside the shadowy figure. "strange to see you out from mother's side," he purrs, the caustic tone underlaid by a brotherly affection that's hard to tell if genuine or falsified. his gaze follows hers to the forest - his forest! - but he does not speak on the assumption yet. no, they have a game to play through, first.