Fox's Glade she is collecting pieces of the broken hearts

there is something dark looming over the male. exhaustion conquering his features and while there is still discernible strength about him it is equally indisputable he has fallen from previous grace. sinew and bone show more prevalent upon glancing at him. weight diminishing from lack of appetite and endless travel. time was supposed to quell the mind ridden with anxiety. that's what everyone said. why was he still subject to such spiritual torment? 

 he had forgotten what it was like to wander alone. he had not formally spoken the words relieving him of his duty from the empire and he supposed they still considered him a part of them in some way. he always would be. though, he wondered if reiko had decided to dismiss him in lieu of his free speech. perhaps she had grown tired of the retaliation he continued to deal her. the impassioned ramblings of the peasant eating at her impetuousness. perhaps, though, it had ceased to bother her at all and these engrossing thoughts of her were no more. perhaps reiko had turned to indifference to guard herself for the future. that was preferred over previous events continuing to unravel. 

 many nights and days had presented and passed as collision set out to clear his mind. a pilgrimage of serenity becoming his only hope to silence the mind. his eyes addressed the unfolding landscape with apathy. he wanted to feel again. this nonchalance was most tiring. 

  the colorless body of another begins to unfold in the distance. his eyes latch to her and he decides to attempt impromptu conversation. her frame modest and petite. he calls out to her with a soft lament. a chuff that is unmistakenly male and he stops in his tracks. he did not wish to frighten her away and return to his solitary. perhaps his sanity was slipping from hold and company was the key to remembering how to involve himself again. would she approach him? would she flee with interest for her safety? he was no crook, but how could she discern that?