Wapun Meadow Ku'uipo

Dreamland.

That's what he often thought he was walking in - reality had become merged with fantasy in late hours, and often the scout walked in his sleep, amongst the clouds and the sea; where nothing could touch him, and all was at peace. He ambled with the willows, sung with the eagles, raised his wings and soared into the heavens. Sometimes he fell into the embrace of Illecebra... other times, his children were sat beside him, racing alongside him.

But when Mawk woke, he knew that it was false. A lie, conjured by his brain to try and maintain some of his peace  - it simply drove him insane. When he erupted onto the snow-covered meadow, void of life and empty, he stilled; breath pooling out in little puffs of frost, eyes trained on the ground in confusion. A scent had rolled over the mist, and for once, he did not feel inclined to run away. He'd been avoiding company, but perhaps something had shifted - he felt terribly alone, at war with himself and all around him. The Saefyn did not want to be.

He searched. It did not take long to uncover the source of the scent (he drank in the sight of graceful vanilla), but he wondered whether he ought to back off and leave her be, or approach and make some attempt at conversation; he just... wanted to speak, wanted to breathe. It was different with a stranger, he thought, - so, with a gentle chuff of greeting, the wolfdog traipsed closer, letting the frigid air clear his thoughts and leave him with some semblance to what he was before the deaths.

"Hi,"