Duskfire Glacier no one but me

Two moons of bedrest and increasingly lengthy excursions had allowed Satori's leg to heal to heal almost perfectly. Her foot remained twisted but, as the days dragged on, she deemed the bone inside to have mended itself. And just in time too.

The glacier was finally awash with all the bounties that spring had to offer. New life in the form of blossoms and leaves, calves of ox and deer that had grown more steady on their legs. Meltwater Lake glittered beautifully as she skirted its shore now, the skull of a great, horned beast leaving drag marks in the mud to where the beginnings of a small shrine lay half-built on a gentle rise.

It was tough work. By the time she reached the precipice, Satori reclined panting in the sun and allowed herself a moment of rest.

the thaw brings rebirth. a breath of life back into the ageless glacier. the borders now teeming with life that'd been forgotten all harsh winter. green peeking through bleak white—a sight the soldier hardly had the time to enjoy. it was simply not his nature; but with the thaw came possibilities. movement. most unwelcome. 

Iosef would stake claim where thaw threatened to wash away scent markers. his travel met with precision and routine. the man hardly sleeps—there is much to do, and with a war on the horizon, there is little time to waste. 

but this morning—as the sun crawls from above the endless edges of the glacier to stake its claim—he allows himself to wander. the scent of a woman taunting him; the same woman he'd long ago brought back to darukaal in her time of need. one of Faust's, or else he would've left her to succumb to her wounds. 

there she sit, feminine form highlighted by the warmth of the golden sun. with a gravely chuff he announced himself, before he strode forward to join her side. eyes of sea glass assessing her leg that once was lame, now nearly healed and well. he was surprised she'd lasted this long, but his expression bore no such emotion. 

"you live. leg healed." he grumbles. tone naturally gruff, but it held no bite. there was no need for it right now. he turns to bask rugged features among the light. "this good. war is coming." and she is needed, though those words he leaves unsaid.

She was not alone for long. Ginger ears flick to catch a low greeting as a familiar scent flooded her nostrils. They'd rarely spoken, Iosef and her. And although she did not particularly enjoy his company, she was grateful for a way to break the silent monotony of her work nonetheless.

Cracking one eye open, Satori observed the way the sun lit the furs of his neck a brilliant gold. He would have been pretty almost, in a rugged sort of way, had his attitude not soured her perception completely. 

"So says everyone," she snorted. As if she needed reminding that war was coming! "What sort of healer would I be if I could not mend myself?" Of course, a soldier like him would never understand.

the crunch of rock and frost underfoot announced his arrival before his voice did.
faust crested the rise in silence, shadow cut sharp against meltlight as his eyes swept the pair—iosef and satori. the soldier, stalwart and unmoving, basked in the sun like a stone warmed after winter. satori, curled like a fox beside her shrine’s bones, a picture of rest earned through pain. he could see the strain still in her limbs, the lingering tremble where a wound had not fully let go.
he came to a slow halt.
you’ve been building, he said simply, gaze passing to the shrine before settling on her leg.
his voice carried the weight of approval, but was spare. stripped down, like the man himself.
he did not yet speak to iosef, but the flick of an ear—acknowledging, familiar—was offered. the glacier did not breed softness, and there was no softness in the way faust appraised them now.
he moves to brush iosef's shoulder. a greeting, before he settles beside satori. an inward possession that is held above her before iosef, though he knows that he and the...russian girl, keshka, have been familiar.