Moonspear Fuck you if you love a car for its paint job

Where scent trails evaded her, the steady patter of footfalls reached her ears eagerly. Swiveling her ears to better determine the direction of origin, she slowed and glanced towards her elder brother just as he slipped into place next to her. Briefly, her pace faltered as she wondered whether she should stop or continue—but with the latter option chosen, she hardly missed a stride anyway. “Hey,” she returned, voice quiet and strained, unaccustomed to being in use; when keeping to herself atop the mountain’s peaks, there was no use for words. Anything to be said to herself never strayed from her mind and those she would see in passing never received anything more than an acknowledging nod, if that. And for that, her voice paid the price now.

Yama was quiet for a long moment thereafter, uncertain. Even before things went downhill, she was never particularly close with Jarilo; she knew him as her brother and viewed him as such, too, but there was not much of a bond there. He was hardly anything more than a stranger, truthfully, and she blamed herself for that. Swallowing nervously, she glanced his way once more, and asked, “What are you doing here…?”