Morningside Cuesta unbound

The wraith's words earned a small grin from the fae, her irises continuing to skim.
He was taller...a touch wittier than her memory served. But still guarded by a restraint, cold and unyielding as winter itself. He did not react to her approach. The steel of his stillness-- it piqued her interest both then and now.
And, truth be told, his reason for departure mirrored her own-- to a degree.
The north was a place where whispers clung to glacial ruins, where chill sank into bone. If there was nothing to tether her to such lands, she would not linger in the midst of winter's wrath. Little was worth frostbite. 
Siofra started forth, her steps silent against snow.
"I heard rumors of a ghost in the valley," the woman murmured, her tone smooth as the winds racing over the cliffside. She paused at his shoulder, her gaze unreadable beneath obsidian lashes. "...I came to see if they held any truth."
Her look lingered upon his for a heartbeat. And then she brushed past.
There were things she wished to discuss-- things of the past and future. Yet if she lingered, the ice would surely reach from the earth to coil around her feet. Slightly, Siofra turned her head, breathing something that hovered between request and command:
"Walk with me."