Hushed Willows dripping in gold

sorry this took so damn long & is so damn short / bland  ;a;

Sᴏɴᴛ ᴡᴀs ғᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ғʀᴏsᴛғᴜʟ sᴇᴀsᴏɴs,  just the same as all who lived. And, yet, put alongside the Rhaesiuan winters, those of Teekon were mild to the minister at best. It had taken the northerner quite a while to settle into Elysium, but it was all the more for hestiancy than anything else. He had not yet found a resting place of his own, and though he'd been taken on frequent tourings of the territory, the information seemed to slip to and from his memory without wont for remembering. He knew that he'd learn, in time; learning was what he favored, but at the present, it wasn't something so pressured upon his mind.

All the same, would these snows never secede?

Sont had forgotten, too, that rivers still ran in winter; so when he heard the frozen thrum of the falls that he'd never decided to notice til now the Guest, piqued, made his way to them through snowdrift and muted sunlight. If it hadn't been for the flicker of a shadow, he would've missed the lingering she-wolf entirely; and if his assumptions were correction, she was... Olive? "Good day," he lent, and yet his tone betrayed anything that ever had the chance of being 'good' at this particular hour.