Altar of Twilight it's strange what desire will make foolish people do

He drifted for a time, eyes closing for what seemed the briefest of moments to reveal on opening that the world had lightened significantly. A haze had descended from down the mountain to the vale and blearily he took stock of what lied before him for a few moments before escaping to the sanctuary of shifting tides of rest. It was not there that he lingered long, caught somewhere in the undertow of a twilight sleep that left him more aware to the world than he wished to be; he heard the passage of one unseen thing and then another, and it stirred him once more.

And so awake he stayed and pondered options he had gone over a hundred times before. Briefly there was consideration for the past but it was swiftly hurled away—playing into those thoughts here, in this situational daze, would only invite more trouble than it was worth. His composure would crumble beneath the weight and what-ifs, and he would not have any of it. No, he would wait a while longer before unfolding and emerging into the world and thrust himself forward into whatever waiting maw stayed open, at least of the figurative sense.

This opportunity was stolen from him though, as an inky figure composed both of femininity and confidence broke the scene. His attention was fixed as she made quick work of spying him from the wintry landscape, and he felt the beginnings of a smile unfurl gently on his features. She had gotten better at finding him, even when he went to pains to stay hidden in the timber. Dirge held his position all nestled until a certainty rested upon her countenance, until her steps had become fully self-assured that she had found her quarry.

He spared a thought briefly if she had scoured the foothills for him, wondering if he would come circling back around in time or find better climes. These were left behind him as he rose and shook snow from his coat (again and again; it seemed this was status quo), and his steps were clipped as he adjusted once more to the ever shifting terrain to curtail distance between them. He held back against the urge to close it entirely, but the forced arm's length was a difficult thing to maintain. Yet it was his way of ever testing that boundary, to control what he could—did she feel so fondly of him that she would come forward?

”You've become quite skilled in finding me, it would seem,” he murmured.