Larksong Grotto white fog

faust tilted his head slightly, watching her as she turned her face to the rain, unbothered by the damp chill. she looked at ease in a way he never had. not once.
no, he said simply. not from here. his voice was quiet, but steady, as if the answer was set in stone. i guess i am now.
he stepped out beside her, blinking against the light drizzle, though he did not close his eyes to it the way she did. instead, his gaze roved over the land stretching beyond them, scanning the open space like a man who never allowed himself the luxury of being unguarded.
i travel too, he admitted, though there was something heavier in his words, something that suggested his wandering was less of a choice and more of a consequence. his eyes flickered toward her then, catching for a moment before drifting away.
how far have you gone?