Verdant Basin A thing or two

this was...lovely.
the land was picturesque if you could stand the cold. which she could.
the snow glittered in the sunlight. like a unicorn had done a spectacular shit across the Teekons.
trudging along felt like it.

the water pooled at the bottom of these rolling hills had frozen over.
she didn't think it was cold enough for the ice to be thick enough to walk on.
Sasha stood on the edge. thinking about it.
it would be peaceful. letting herself succumb to the water and cold.

she didn't know how long she stood, watching the landscape. unmoving.

unlike others, aditya very much could not stand the cold. normally, he'd be spending the day curled up nearby his daughter, the two of them trying to share body heat the best they could. today, though, he left @Brook, his head heavy with intrusive thoughts.

the man stepped into the snow, squinting. his bones ached slightly; he was feeling his age today. and he was feeling guilty for the ones he'd loved and left behind—his children, his lovers, his friends. he wondered if it his indecision was his just desserts for coelacanth, for shattering their relationship and her peaceful existence upon the island for the sake of what could be.

or maybe it wasn't punishment. maybe this was just who aditya was: the man who ran away from everything, both tangible and intangible.

he ceased feeling sorry for himself, at least for a moment, as his walk took him a few paces from a cream-colored woman, standing out in the cold. he skirted the lakeside, giving her a chuff above the wind as he approached. she looked pensive, too, and he wondered what demons haunted her. maybe he could help.

the only good thing about fucking up so many times was that one gained a sense of what not to do.

tags for ref

her curled tail fluttered as she was launched back into reality.
footsteps crunching through the snow, making their way along the lakeside to her.
she hesitated. then turned her head at the deep chuff.
mismatched eyes met a rugged man, seemingly older than her from the white creeping in along his muzzle.

a thick black band hung about his neck. she blinked. human.
her lips pursed, but she turned to face him and her tail twitched again in a feeble wag. friendly.

his air felt heavy, much like her own. his own eyes shadowed with the pains of life.
her brow creased, trying to figure him out before she greeted him. to engage him.
"quite a winter, huh." who didn't like a quick comment on the weather.

"hard, isn't it." her looked back out across the lake. god, it was so enticing.
but she really couldn't. she had business with the Saints. and more importantly, Kynareth.
she wanted her husband.

he shrugged, lips pulling taut in a grimace of acknowledgement. i've never liked winter, aditya remarked, but yes, this is worse than most i've seen. 

and he'd seen a lot. the man dared to move a few paces closer, now that the woman seemed at least not openly hostile. he observed her pelt, her frame. if there were any scents upon her, they were not ones he knew—but then, who would he know, being so long gone from this place?

did easthollow still exist? swiftcurrent? undersea?

so what brings you out in this awful weather? he inquired, ears cupped forward to catch her response. his hawkish gaze observed her, gimlet gold. he'd grown sharper over the years, less inclined to pleasantries and more focused on the goal, of getting what he needed with as little effort as possible.

but, every so often, he did miss a nice conversation. he had brook, true, but there were the days when he could converse with just about anyone. . . better days.

who could like winter. yeah, it was pretty and the snow was fun, and some wolves liked the old.
but that was about it.
food shortage, getting lost, the cold.
the list goes on. though, saying that, Sahsa didn't mind winter too much.

he seemed curious. hopefully not too curious, though.
she gave him a small, wry smile.

she shrugged at his question.
"got no where, and no one."
well, she could do. but she didn't want them. didn't want him.
that scrutiny. the hell.
she thought about going back, but never made it within three miles of the place. not in her first and only attempt.

she flipped the question back to him, "what about you?"

her answer was all too familiar. for her sake, he wished he could give it back. that said, he couldn't lie, deny brook. it's me and my daughter, aditya replied. traveling together. for once, he was not alone. and to see a like soul, trapped in her own private purgatory. . .

or so he thought. maybe he was reading too deeply into things.

not good for wolves to be alone in this season, he remarked softly. he didn't know what his goal was. he had no ranks into which he could usher her; there was no place he had to offer. but maybe he could make her feel less alone, at least for a moment.

aditya stood quietly, flakes fluttering down between them, awaiting her reply.

him and his daughter. not their mother. a strange dynamic, but perhaps a necessary one.
he too travelled. wandered. 
she wondered why he hadn't settled them. why he didn't stop to rest with a family.

her lips pursed and twisted into a sordid smile at the memory of her children. the sons and daughter she'd left behind at the hands of those foul beasts. the little girl bearing Kynareths brindle. running up her little legs.

"it isn't," she murmured her response. it was a heavy winter. a hard snow with icy winds, making the snows tough and harsh against nose and paw. Not life softer drifts which the young could play in.
not at all.

"so why are you?" she turned her eyes to him, assessing and questioning. for one wolf it was enough. to have to bear a single one of your kin too was harder. especially if it was a child, as she was thinking.

he cocked his head slightly, giving her a quizzical, almost amused look. i'm not, aditya replied, smiling softly. i told you, i have my daughter. even one wolf could make a traveler feel less lonely. he supposed she maybe was referring to their lack of a pack, which he also worried over. 

for now, they were all right. they were good hunters. they would make it.

would she?

we'll settle down at some point, he continued. headed for the sea. if you find yourself without a place. . . adi left the offer dangle in mid-air, curious of how she'd react. he wasn't sure why he offered the olive branch to the woman. he pitied her, perhaps. or it was some deep-seated need to organize a flock, to keep others safe.

whatever it was, it was out there, now. it was up to her whether to take the proffered kindness or let it go, keep to herself.

she narrowed her gaze. having a daughter beside you wasn't the same as a pack. but that seemed to be his problem. 
her lips twitched. whatever. Sasha sunk to her haunches, a soft sigh escaping her.

"you did indeed," she replied. not wanting silence to stretch between them.
she hated useless silence. such a time-wasting thing, unless important. which was rare.

the sea. that sounded well. though the coast was usually worse than it is inland. the offer though...
why would he bother?
she swallowed. to leave this little pocket of Kynareth's world. his little corner kingdom...
"I have...relations nearby that I want to stick around for."
if he asked more she could just say it was complicated. because it was.
"but thank you," and she meant it. more than ever before.

he understood. admired her for it. every chance he had ever been given to run away from his own, he'd taken it. so was it only contemplation, then, that brought her out to the ice in the howling storm? soul-searching? not loneliness.

or maybe it was.

mention not, aditya replied, smiling. his eyes were warm enough that they would melt the snow, if they could. it was nice to be able to connect with someone again. even though he'd returned home briefly, he'd stayed distant, allowing no one to let him into his heart. it was easier that way.

he dipped his muzzle, demonstrating his discomfort with a little shiver. i'm going to find shelter again, he told her. i hope you stay well and warm—and brook and i are out there somewhere if you ever need a home.

when farewells had passed, he departed, agouti coat soon swallowed up by blinding white.