Hibernation Point pardesi, pardesi, jaana nahin

this was the way.

he could not tie himself to anyone, anywhere, anything—and he had tried. oh, how he'd tried! 

but his place within others' lives was always meant to be temporary, transient, and so just as he had left everyone else, so left he brook with the white spine pack. . .then vanished, once more, into the ether.

this was the way.

aditya edged carefully around the mountain, looking for small game. the caverns he encountered smelled faintly of sleeping bear; luckily for him, winter was far off, and the bears would not return to their dens for some time. but he kept a watchful eye out anyway, knowing the damage one could inflict.

came to a small stream and drank deep, slurping more than lapping, the warm day pleasant but ultimately wearying on his old body.

old. and yet here he was, acting like a yearling. caring not for anyone but himself. he laid upon the earth, under the shade of a sweet-smelling pine, watching the water ripple over jutting, gleaming stones. water never stayed put; it moved, constantly, even when appearing at a stand-still.

he was the water; he always had been. this was the way.