Permafrost Hollows and in the end, i'll do it all again

He found himself winding his way through the icy tunnels again, trembling fiercely from the cold. The tears had not stopped since Eris' departure, but had slowed to an ever-present trickle of warmth that quickly turned frigid on his cheeks. It was dark— impossibly dark. The sun had set a long time ago, though he didn't remember how long it had been now.
His thoughts turned to @Zamael as he came to the mouth of a familiar cavern. The one he had discovered with Ulf, he remembered. The memory stung, and he shoved it aside, moving to a dry section of stone. He tucked himself against the ground there, resting between two shimmering pools of water; they glinted silver, reflecting scant amounts of moonlight from where it bled through the jagged ceiling. Argent tendrils of trickling water glimmered around him, constantly in motion as ice melted and added to the pools dotting the ground around him.

It was beautiful, but did nothing to comfort him. He curled in on himself, trying once again to stem the flow of tears. Eris was gone— and he had run from Zamael. For what seemed like the dozenth time in his life, Alarian was alone.

Talking to Mirabelle had helped. A conversation with another living, breathing soul, rather than trying to reason with himself all alone out here on the plains, had grounded him the necessary amount. Now he was off to find Alarian again, and to try to talk his brother down. He didn't know whether Alarian would even be amenable to a second meeting--but he had to try.

He left the valley behind, traveling closer to where he'd run into his brother in the first place. His scent trail picked back up at the mouth of a tunnel. Casting a bleak look toward the night sky--he wasn't keen on navigating through tunnels in the dark--Zamael went ahead anyway, sighing heavily. He went on, and on, and on, fighting himself every step of the way. Was this a mistake? What if it really was it for him and Alarian?

All these doubts were cast aside, though, when he caught sight of his brother curled up in a cavern, the light from the pools rippling silver over his pelt.

Giving a gentle chuff, Zamael stepped into the cave, silently striding over the cool stone. When he reached Alarian, he lowered himself to the ground, resting his head on his paws so that his nose was just inches away from his brother's face. "I'm sorry," he murmured, not even loud enough for the faintest echo in the quiet cavern.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Zamael appeared; he was too exhausted to be startled. His eyes cracked open slowly, ears flicking at the apology. For several beats, he did nothing— said nothing. His brother was here, again. Even after— everything.
Alarian found himself without words. He uncurled himself instead, moved almost frantically to press against Zamael if he was allowed. Or, rather, collapse against him. He didn't allow himself to feel relief; not yet, not until he knew his brother would come home with him. His breath hitched slightly then, a shudder running through him, and he found words, whispered and shaking: I want you to stay.

All the madness seemed to have gone out of Alarian, leaving him shuddering and tired. Zamael felt much the same. He let out a sigh at his brother's words, allowing him to come as close as he liked, pulling him into his embrace. He closed his eyes, silent for a couple of long moments. Listening to the beating of their hearts, loud as roars in the quiet cave.

"I'll stay," he said finally, voice echoing now, only slightly. "Of course I'll stay." He rested his head against Alarian, breathing gently. Taking in his brother's scent, so familiar and yet so foreign, after being apart. It was the same but changed, just like his appearance. Indelibly changed. But he'd get to know this new scent just as well as he'd known the old, with time.

Zamael inhaled, low and deep. "This wasn't an accident. I came looking for you." To take you back with me. A conversation that could come later, once everything had settled down. "I needed to find you again. I would have gone to the ends of the earth to be with you. I want you to know that." Will he come with me, or resist? Zamael didn't know.

shhh it's not 2am

The embrace felt— it felt like being home, and that was when he realized he was. In the end, no amount of wishing or trying would change that no place could ever bring him this feeling. No other wolf could, either. Just... this one. He tucked himself tightly against his brother, ignoring for the moment the rawness that still hung between them. It would for awhile, he knew.
Relieved by the answer he received, Alarian nosed gently through the familiar grey fur, almost as if searching for the smallest differences. Truth be told, he was still convincing himself this was real. He could feel his breath catching again at Zamael's explanation— that didn't feel real, either. But he liked the sound of it— liked the idea that maybe, just maybe, someone did exist who loved him that much.
If he could believe it of anyone, it would be Zamael. Alarian fell quickly back into old habits; after some time, his nosing turned to soft but insistent grooming. There was so much to say, and none of it came to him now. He could only soak in the scent and feeling of his brother, commit the exact sound of each syllable he spoke to memory. He needed to save him, the memory of him, because—

Despite what he wanted to believe, and despite any pretty words Zamael might offer, he knew somewhere within himself that his beloved brother would leave him again. Time and time again it had been proven that the world never gave him gifts it did not intend on taking back. He accepted each one eagerly nonetheless— and this one, he took most eagerly of all, already picturing well the ruin it would make of him.
I love you, He breathed, thinking then that he'd never stop saying it now that Zamael was here to listen.

He sighed, letting those three beautiful little words slip into his ear, root themselves in his brain. It had been so long since he'd heard those words spoken sincerely, and even longer since he'd heard them from Alarian. He hadn't noticed their absence until just now, and he ducked his head, feeling tears well in his eyes. Damn.

"I love you," Zamael repeated, fervently, pressing back against his brother. "I always have. I always will." A pool of grays and blacks and tans were they, their pelts shimmering in the crystalline light. It was something out of a story, and when he looked at Alarian, let his gaze linger over his brother's face, he could hardly believe any of it was real.

"Is this your home?" he asked, eyes lifting to look around the cave. If so. . .cool digs. Unique. Pretty. But he'd mentioned a pack, and there was little pack-scent, here.

He didn't think he deserved to be as happy as he was— no, he knew he didn't. It just didn't matter right then. Zamael's words caused a swell of emotion in his chest, and he swallowed hard, shivering slightly. This was so— strange. Alarian was quite used to being overwhelmed with emotion, but not this kind. The experience was both familiar and alien.
His brother's question drew a slightly shaky laugh from him. No— no, it's too cold here, Alarian shivered again, as if his body was proving a point. It's east of here— the Bracken Sanctuary. We're uh— next to the Bracken Woods. I was um...
Oh, yeah. That. I was looking for Eris— Lanawyn— goddamnit, I just got used to that! Already he was agitated again, panic creeping back as he remembered what had brought him here. More quietly, he continued: I— I told her that I ran into you, and— she was upset. Was that the right word, even? He swallowed hard as he considered it. But— she didn't run away until I wanted to look for you. There was some dark humor to the last sentence; he had managed to make it his fault, even when it hadn't been in the first place.
Anyway, I uh, gave up on looking... Obviously.

"You're with Lanawyn." It was a statement, not a question, and while his voice rang cold in the cavern, there was no real emotion behind it. Zamael had been so focused on protecting Alarian, raising Alarian, loving Alarian, that he'd failed to extend that same care to the rest of the litter. Lanawyn was his sister, true, but she didn't have part of his heart, as Alarian did. He was, however, happy she was here, too. That would make his task much easier, rather than having to track her down separately.

Except-- "Oh, she ran away?" A question, this time. Evidently, she'd ran away because of him. No love lost there, and honestly, could he blame her? He'd never deny the fact that he'd kept her in the background. Nor would he mourn over it. He hoped she'd return--perhaps apologies needed to be made, now that they were both adults.

"Well, maybe she'll come back, soon," Zamael said, mouth twisting. He rose to his feet, shivering himself. This place was chilly, even in the depths of summer. "The Bracken Sanctuary, huh? That sounds. . .cozy." Not as elegant as some of the names he'd heard, but there was a certain stately charm about it that he liked. It quite suited his brother, he thought.

He winced at the lack of emotion; it stung to hear him care so little, but he remembered that had always been their largest difference before— before they had other things to worry about. Eris, Alarian corrected automatically. She goes by her middle name, now. He was still a little confused, honestly, but you do you Lana.
I have to— find her, at some point, He rose quickly after his brother, almost as if he intended to do that now. But he put a little too much weight on his bad leg, and it protested fiercely. Ah!— It was a quiet cry, cut off as soon as he lessened the pressure. He realized at once that he could not search further today, and his expression fell at the thought.
Yeah, Alarian agreed a little dully, pressing against Zamael for a few beats before he gestured to him and moved to lead him to Broken Boulder. It started to sink in, then— he was really staying. He brightened a little at that thought, offering his brother a tired smile. Honestly, things have been— hectic. I'm... I'm glad you're staying.

"Eris," he amended, one corner of his mouth flickering upwards in the faintest amusement. His ears pricked with concern as Alarian stood and immediately limped, crying out. He stood close, supporting his brother while he regained his footing. What have you been up to, young man? he wondered, seeing the pain, the exhaustion behind his smile.

"I'll help with whatever you need," Zamael promised, walking with Alarian. He cast a dubious glance at the walls of the cavern; it was beautiful, but he was happy to be leaving it behind for more open ground. "Including looking for Lanawyn. You need to rest."

It certainly wasn't at the top of his priority list, looking for his wayward sister. Then again, it had been one of the goals of this journey, and now that he had found Alarian, he should probably approach it with some degree of seriousness. Zamael let out a resigned breath, a puff of frosted air from his lips.