Permafrost Hollows and in the end, i'll do it all again

Talking to Mirabelle had helped. A conversation with another living, breathing soul, rather than trying to reason with himself all alone out here on the plains, had grounded him the necessary amount. Now he was off to find Alarian again, and to try to talk his brother down. He didn't know whether Alarian would even be amenable to a second meeting--but he had to try.

He left the valley behind, traveling closer to where he'd run into his brother in the first place. His scent trail picked back up at the mouth of a tunnel. Casting a bleak look toward the night sky--he wasn't keen on navigating through tunnels in the dark--Zamael went ahead anyway, sighing heavily. He went on, and on, and on, fighting himself every step of the way. Was this a mistake? What if it really was it for him and Alarian?

All these doubts were cast aside, though, when he caught sight of his brother curled up in a cavern, the light from the pools rippling silver over his pelt.

Giving a gentle chuff, Zamael stepped into the cave, silently striding over the cool stone. When he reached Alarian, he lowered himself to the ground, resting his head on his paws so that his nose was just inches away from his brother's face. "I'm sorry," he murmured, not even loud enough for the faintest echo in the quiet cavern.