Hushed Willows grey hoarfrost vanished, and the rose with might [festival]

@Merrit <3

As the festivities drag on, she finds herself increasingly exhausted by it all. Truth be told, all she really wants is to go back home with Derg — but, when did she start thinking of Permafrost Hollows as home? It's a crisis for later, it seems; she can't bring herself to feel guilty right now, not even a little. All she really feels is tired — tired of strangers and strange places, tired of guilt and grief and uncertainty, tired of feeling lost in the world. Not very festive thoughts, honestly.
So this time, her isolation is self-imposed, though not quite as severe. She lingers away from most of the wolves gathered, but near enough to keep the general crowd in sight. As much as she wants to be alone, the idea of getting lost again isn't very appealing. She just wants to get through this night. If she can just get through this, Derg will take her back and everything will be okay. For a moment or two, at least.

<33 !!!

Finally. He finally made it to Elysium.

The throng of wolves is a familiar sight, but he does set his eyes on them. He instead skirts along the outer rim of those gathered to celebrate the Festival of whatever traditions and rites they are keeping. This, too, means less than nothing to him; their ritual is not why he has come. Merrit knows these celebrations draw in wolves from regions the night raven cannot even dream to name. He knows their story spreads far and wide, and he hopes that the murmurings may have reached the ears of Keen.

This is why he keeps to the outskirts: because he knows his sister, and he knows that if she has come, she will not be dancing in the midst of the company, though he knows she is lovelier than every wolf here.
 
But that is not who his sister is. He knows this, and even more, he knows that she deserves to soar higher, far higher, than whatever Elysium extends to her here. Keen has a place above them, even if she does not see that yet.

And he knows she does not see this yet, and that is why he looks behind them, because if his sister has come, then this is where she will be - and it is here he catches sight of a lonely shadow separated from the group, watching on in a crooked hunch that is so very familiar, and his chest fills with a hollow ache - yet he keeps himself from plunging forward, and his heart from leaping out. The scent of the party confuses him, and he can't pick out this woman's scent from the greater throng - but he knows she is real, and he has to try; he croons to her, soft and low.

"Keen."

He takes a single step forward, and waits for her to turn. There is still the chance that she is someone else, and if she is, she will leave him. But if she is Keen, he knows she will come.

She focuses on the steady rhythm of her own breathing as her gaze scans the crowd, seeking to soothe herself by investing her attention elsewhere. It only helps a little; nothing can truly drown the sound of wolves talking and laughing, the way their scents mingle into one overwhelming mass of information. The soft sound of her name is so out of place in the scene that for a moment, she thinks she's imagined it.
But somewhere within herself, she knows, even before she realizes it; her breath catches and she freezes, heart picking up a frantic pace despite her immediate assumption that it must be Derg, if not her imagination. That is not the sound of Derg's voice; much as she adores listening to him speak, this voice is one far sweeter to her ears — one she has only heard in dreams for what seems an eternity. She turns, heart jumping to her tightening throat as her gaze falls first on the achingly familiar hazel-green of her brother's eyes.
Merrit? Her voice is almost a whisper, perhaps too soft for true clarity over the sounds of the party, but it matters little. She's moving before she realizes it, rushing to embrace him without a second thought. She has imagined this meeting so many times, comforted herself through so many cold nights with thoughts of their reunion, of what she would tell him, of their journey home. She'd imagined so many things — but those thoughts had fled her the moment she locked eyes with her brother. Now her mind is racing too quickly for coherence, her heart thumping too hard in her throat for speech, and all she can do is bury her face in his scruff with a sudden, choked sob, tears filling her eyes as she takes in his familiar scent. He smells like comfort, like safety, like home, and the crushing reminder of how much she has missed all of these things threatens to suffocate her. He's here now, and it will all be okay — but she can't seem to stop the trauma of the last few months from crashing down on her in the face of their reunion. She'd never meant to be gone so long; she'd never meant to leave him or any of them. And she has felt so, so alone until now.

In the stillness of her silence, these moments seem forever, and for every heartbeat she doesn't respond, he wonders if he is mistaken after all. If this is another dead end, and he realizes his chest is heavy with the hollow ache of an anguished cry, and his resolution stirs slowly within.

If this is love, he does not want it.

But then she moves, sharp and familiar, and his eyes meet hers. Electric blue - and he has only a moment to register the reality of her presence before he finds himself entangled by her, embraced by her warmth and the softness of her voice, a breathless word she whispers across the raucous din of night, and his cry chokes out. She smells of snow and ice, and the wild wind which wanders - yet she is here, and the world is right.

"Shhh. Shh, it's okay. You're safe. I found you," his voice is low; he means his words only for her, and his chest aches as she buries her face into his shoulder and shudders against him with a silent sob. You won't always lose them, Merrit.

But he would.
Always.
He closes his eyes, and embraces her tighter.

His soft words are more soothing than she might have expected, the gentle sound of his voice solidifying the reality of his presence. Merrit, Her voice is barely above a whisper as she repeats his name, tears slowing as the joy of their reunion finally begins to make its sluggish appearance. She steps back just slightly, just enough to see his face, eyes still brimming with tears as her conflicting emotions struggle for dominance. I-I didn't mean to be gone for so long — I tried to find my way back, but... She swallows, fearing that she'll dissolve into tears if she delves into how she'd gotten so lost. I missed you. And mom, and Arlette — are they here? How are they? She glances briefly away from Merrit as if half-expecting to see her mother or her sister lurking around somewhere, slightly disappointed to note that she recognizes none of the other wolves around. Her gaze finds him again quickly, a little anxious now; she can't help but worry that if they aren't here too, it means something happened.