Blacktail Deer Plateau it's already burning

hadrian's steps are leisurely, slow because this is foreign territory and because even though he's not hungry at the current moment he doesn't necessarily want to spook the herd of blacktail deer he's seen. eventually, he would grow hungry and it was useful to keep tabs on them and he'd much rather have them closer than further away from him. presently, his scent was not enough to spook them — he could hear them in the distance grazing, leaves and errant twigs snapping beneath the weight of their hooves, the occasional bleat of a fawn.

and then amidst the serene sounds of unsuspecting prey and unsuspecting predator a loud voice cuts through the silence, causing hadrian's ears to perk and then flutter and slick back against his skull. the excitement at the familiar voice that calls out to him: junior — even if he hadn't been sure by voice alone he knows it's saarthal from the use of that nickname alone ( not just anyone can all him 'junior' after all ) — he feels the familiar exasperation and annoyance as the spooked herd take off.

rather then follow the food source hadrian heads deeper into the plateau's forest towards the origin of the screams. while he's all for hearing his name screamed towards the heavens, saarthal wasn't who he'd ever had in mind. his steps slow as he draws near her, her scent strong in his flared nostrils now, and he stalks forward, shrugging through the underbrush, as proud and haughty as ever. gods. hadrian curses. didn't father ever teach you to use your inside voice, saar? he huffs, rumbling and disapproving ...only to break the facade a few seconds later as frostbound silver gaze takes her in greedily, lips quivering with unfettered joy at seeing her again.

he missed her. terribly. wholly. he misses aeneas as if the firstborn was a lung, but he's missed saarthal like he's been missing his heart. you look well. he observes ...his way of saying that he's missed her without actually admitting it.