We'll meet again. [Larsa]

[Crys]

Pharos

It was in the silence that he found himself. In the cold, in the bright, stifling white.
In that silence he was alone, and in this solitude he watched himself, so painfully aware. Aware of his own shallow breathing, and the ache in his bones from the chill. Aware of the hunger, begging him to hunt, to move, to do anything, and yet. It was so easy just to lie here, to let the coating of old snow stirred by the wind to dust his fur. Tiny crystals that caught the light of a sun that failed to warm him.
He watched himself through closed eyes, and he thought, maybe today. Maybe today… It was an unfinished thought, something vaguely hopeful that faded before it could be born. The white wolf sighed, his breath a puff of discolor in the frigid air.

It wasn’t so bad, lying here. Settled in. Familiar. Comfortable despite the innate discomfort of the situation. Maybe today, he thought again. He sniffed, and then numbly, he rose to his feet. He shook the frost from his pelt, and felt that brief flash of warmth brought on by the movement. He shivered, his body immediately upset by the simple act of doing. It would be so easy, so easy just to stop, to let go. But the sliver of self held on, refusing to fade away, slight as it was.

I will walk, he thought, fighting for motivation because no one was around to ask it of him. I will walk, will go, will keep moving and maybe today.
Maybe today I will find something.

[Kenren]

Larsa

It was cold. Not the type of cold that froze your bones, not really - just a neverending sort of cold that was always there, always pushing, until you felt smothered by it. All he could see was white. He wondered sometimes if he'd gone blind, with the way the sun bounced off of the snow and into his eyes. Perhaps he should blink more. Could your eyes freeze? He didn't know. He wasn't from this cold, cold place. He was from the south, where plants grew green and there was so much water in the air it could be hard to breathe. And it was hot. Cold had been new once, but it grew old fast. And, unlike in the south, he could go for miles without seeing another living soul. He didn't dislike it, but at the same time it could make him agitated. His itch cropped up faster out here, without anyone to talk to. He had to move, because he didn't know what else to do. He sometimes felt, in this thick, snowy wasteland, that if he stayed still for too long he'd just get swallowed up by all of the white and cold.

He didn't know what he wanted, but he did know he wanted something.

It wasn't long before he found himself stopping, pale eyes finding something moving amongst the trees. A ghost, was his first thought - something there, but not. Substantial, but transparent. A curious thing. An interesting thing. He spoke before he actually thought about it.

"Where are you going?"

[Crys]

Pharos

He froze in his step, hair prickling immediately, eyes going wide. A voice, breaking the silence. He whirled to face the noise, kicking up a spray of powder and leaving grooves in the snow. There was a figure like a dark shadow in silhouette, a beast draped in dark fur. Opposing him, the white wolf’s eyes flicked back against his skull and he stood very still, nothing moving but the wind caught in his fur.
The presence of this stranger pulled every muscle in his body tense, and his lips curled back ever so slightly to show a glimpse of teeth. Where was he going? An excellent question, he thought. Because he had no answer to give, he gave nothing, eyes wide in an unblinking stare.

[Kenren]

Larsa

The creature - not a ghost, that was a silly thought anyway - turned and looked at him, eyes wide and exhibiting... fear? Surprise? He couldn't read those blue eyes, and that frustrated him for reasons he wasn't quite sure of. The white wolf didn't answer him, but he didn't flee, either. There was something about him that screamed to stay away - his stance, the way his fur stood on end, the slight baring of his teeth. However, his eyes were different. He couldn't read them at all, but they weren't warning him away... maybe.

"Um... Are you alone? My name is Larsa." He was intrigued, so he wanted to try just a little more. Maybe the ghost-wolf would leave. He didn't know. The longer he looked, though, the more he realized that this one was young, younger than him. Maybe he was just scared? He took a step forward, but only one. Just to see.

[Crys]

Pharos

He stared with wide eyes at the stark etching of charcoal, black framed by blinding white. It seemed for a moment to pull the chill from the air, a single ember stripped of its color but not its heat. Mesmerizing, this glow in his chest when he looked at the stranger. Fear, always the fear, the danger of the unknown- but oh, the thrill. Something out of the silence. Something new. He swallowed heavily, wind tugging at his pelt, though his stance stayed firm. A statue of ice, of bone and fur, and bright but distant eyes. He swayed on his toes, prepared to dart at the drop of a feather or a single threatening display.
Why are you here, stranger? His expression fell flat, unreadable, empty. What did he hope to gain from this confrontation? He had nothing to take.

Are you alone? Alone, alone, alone.
He shivered, and it had nothing to do with the cold.
Yes, alone.

He tensed again as the stranger moved to approach, unaware that with each breath the tension had ebbed. Dangerous. Oh, so enticing. That single step forward had shaken something, cracked it. Again, he shuddered, but did not bolt.
Who are you, to find me in the cold, Larsa? And why, why, why. It was the magnetism of curiosity glowing between them. Hesitantly, he mirrored the movement, quiet, cautious steps. I have nothing, said his posture. His bones were visible when he shifted, even under the winter coating of fur. Nothing to take, nothing to give. I am nothing, but you- oh, you. Stranger. He was a beacon for his desperation. A symbol of movement in a world locked in frost. Of life. Of…

[Kenren]

Larsa

The tenseness in those thin shoulders made Larsa think that the younger wolf would surely flee. And yet, despite what his body said, there didn't actual seem to be fear in the brilliant blue eyes that were locked so securely on his. A moment hung between them, tense and fragile enough for Larsa to catch his breath.

He couldn't deny the chill that went through him as the white specter turned, taking a few hesitant, yet unstoppable steps toward him. He couldn't explain what he felt, but he knew he couldn't look away. He also couldn't stop speaking, it seemed, despite the lack of response from the other side. Perhaps he was not capable of speaking at all. "I'm not going to hurt you, you know. You don't need to be afraid." His words were as quiet and soothing as he could make them, but he didn't know if he was entirely successful. He didn't move forward again - he didn't want to scare him away, not when he was going to come to him. His breath frosted the air in front of him, and yet, the closer the wolf came, the less he breathed - he hardly even moved. As if, with one motion, he would break the spell and he would be gone, disappearing as quickly as he'd come.

Why did it even matter?
It didn't, not really
And yet, you're captivated.
I'm not... captivated.

He wasn't captivated. That wouldn't make any sense.

"I promise I won't hurt you."

[Crys]

Pharos

He wondered then, if he was just in the way. Framed by winter, infinite snowy paths through the trees- and himself, in the way of Larsa's journey to who knew where. But Larsa didn't move, merely stood; alert, watching. He was frozen again in response, ears pressed flat against his skull, frost caught in his whiskers. I'm not going to hurt you. He felt himself quivering so hard he thought for certain he’d fall. You don't need to be afraid. He heard the words but couldn't feel them, couldn't muddle out what they could really mean.
But I am afraid, he thought. Would always be afraid.

Larsa’s eyes were cold prisms, crescents of almost-silver. But there was something else there. Something more. If only he could see. He began to creep forward again, snow crunching under-foot.
I promise I won't hurt you.
He sunk further into himself, thin body buried in his fur. Run away, run away, run away. Nowhere to go.
But forward.
He was only a yard away when he stopped, unable to push himself ahead even one more step. Curled at Larsa’s feet, as if bowed to a god. How was he to be judged?

[Kenren]

Larsa

The closer the young wolf got, the more he could see that he was definitely not trembling in cold, but fear. He watched in something like wonder, then, that the boy even approached him at all. He came closer and drew further away all at once, a process more painful on the watcher's heart than his eyes. He had never had someone come to him so submissively, belly nearly touching the ground, eyes occasionally flicking to his. Some might try to liken Larsa's emotion then to the elation of taming some wild animal, but that wasn't it at all. There wasn't any trust in those deep eyes, only... what? Hope? But hope for what, when Larsa had nothing to offer.

The young wolf stopped only feet away, and Larsa could see thinness of his body despite the bristled fur. The gauntness of his face, the tremble in his limbs. Larsa found himself taking the last few steps toward the grounded creature, falling to his own belly as he drew closer - close enough to touch. He stopped, hoping not to crowd, still afraid to scare him off. Gently, tentatively, he stretched out his neck, nose toward nose. He sought a simple touch, a simple greeting, but if the boy moved away, he would not press him.

[Crys]

Pharos

He felt bile rising up the back of his throat, his heart pounding in his ears. As the male approached like a looming shadow, he imagined him as a wraith, an omen encroaching upon him. Jet black, but the eyes… Silver, but not so sharp or cold. No, there was something else there. Something else. He couldn’t look away from those eyes, despite the threat of angering this stranger. Something else, something more.
An opalescent gleam of color. The faintest flush of lavender.

And then Larsa was touching him. Careful, gentle, the lightest brush. It was the first physical contact he’d had in longer than he could remember. He flinched, eyes wincing shut, but didn’t retreat. So close now, that their lingering breath in the winter air met before it dissipated.
He couldn’t move, could barely breathe. Slowly, he opened his eyes to meet Larsa’s up close.
And in them, he found warmth.

[Kenren]

Larsa

Larsa was no longer afraid of the boy running, even when he flinched away from the light touch. He was starting to realize that it wasn't so much intentional as... what? Fear? But not fear of him specifically. Fear of everyone, perhaps. But despite that fear, he was still seeking contact. Otherwise, why wouldn't he have run? It was a troubling thought that.

Then those blue eyes opened, so much closer now, and Larsa gave him as reassuring a smile as he knew how. He shuffled a little closer, so that their paws almost touched. But he didn't make a move to make contact again. He simply looked at him for a moment, returning that wide-eyed gaze with a contemplative one of his own. "Where did you come from?" he murmured, mostly to himself since the boy hadn't answered him yet. He wasn't particularly young, but he had the leggy, thin look of a yearling. He could have been older, though, and just underfed - it was hard to tell. While it wasn't unheard of for a yearling to be on his own, it wasn't necessarily common, either. He guessed the reason had something to do with his skittish nature, but anything he came up with was just speculation. He couldn't necessarily be considered 'worldly,' after all - he was only two himself, and only a few months on his own. He looked away now, studying his surroundings. He hadn't seen any signs of a pack here, but with the constant snow it was hard to tell for sure.

"Can you speak? You don't have to, but..." he trailed off. He'd been about to say 'but I feel like I should know.' Things had just kind of tumbled on, but somewhere in the process he must have decided he wasn't quite willing to leave the young wolf out here in the cold if he really was alone.

[Crys]

Pharos

Where did you come from?
An odd question, he thought. Backwards. It would be better to be asked where he was going, but then, he had no answer for either. Even if he did…
His thoughts trailed off as Larsa inched, very slowly, nearer. He found himself feeling eager now, and it was an emotion that felt completely alien to him. Eager for what? Larsa’s scent was clear despite the wind, and he found himself wanting to draw nearer too, nearer, nearer, to bury his face in Larsa’s warm fur. Desperate for touch of any sort. He thought, what will I do if he lashes out? That would be fine too, he decided. Anything, anything. But Larsa was nothing but gentle. Prying, but in a careful, hesitant way.

Can you speak?
He stared at him for a very long moment, before tilting his head in an uncommitted gesture. His gaze had drifted down to Larsa’s paw. Close, so close. Intentional? As far as he could tell, it was genuine. He would have to shift only slightly, and they’d be touching again. A baffling shiver of thrill ran though him. He did not move his leg, but instead dipped his head and gently licked Larsa’s paw.

[Kenren]

Larsa

For a second he thought he might get a response, a real one, but then those eyes turned down again and Larsa felt the smallest twang of frustration. He couldn't fathom being so timid. It melted away, though, when the boy lowered his head and licked one black paw, gently, as if he might melt away. An odd tingle went up Larsa's leg. He knew it was just in his head, but it was still strange. "That's not exactly an answer," he said, amused now. If the boy wouldn't talk, that was fine.

The wind picked up suddenly, and Larsa ducked his head against the snow thrust into his eyes. The fur of their cheeks touched, and Larsa hunched forward, cold spiking through his skin. He shivered once, violently, before the wind went into a lull again. He sat up, looking out. In the distance he could see a cloud of snow swirling over the horizon, promising much worse than they'd just gotten. He glanced back down to the younger wolf.

If he was going to run to shelter, he needed to take the kid with him. He probably wasn't altogether helpless, but he seemed it enough to worry Larsa about leaving him. Not that he knew he'd come anyway, but why not try? "Do you know somewhere we can lie low, or... Or I can find somewhere, probably..."

[Crys]

Pharos

He felt unfathomably pleased that Larsa had accepted his gesture without complaint. He’d half expected him to flinch away, like maybe his touch was venom or his mouth dripping with plague. Instead, he could actually sense the slightest hint of pleasure. His ears pressed back against his skull again with returned shyness, but his tail was wagging slightly, and kicking up snow.

A powerful breeze swept the landscape. When Larsa huddled down to endure it, just for a moment, their faces touched. His heart leapt; that was a bit too much. A bit too close. Too intimate. But he didn’t pull away. It had been startling, but as soon as it was over, he wished he could touch that cheek again. From this close, he could feel the shudders of cold wracking Larsa’s body. He obviously wasn’t built for weather like this. He inched just a little bit closer, hopeful to share his body heat.

"Do you know somewhere we can lie low, or... Or I can find somewhere, probably..." Wordlessly he widened his eyes, and with a slight, small movement he nodded his head. He’d dug a burrow in the thick, old snow many nights before. Almost certainly it would still be sturdy now. A bit small, but… Reluctant as he was to move away from Larsa, he stood up and turned his head in the direction his den lay, out of sight. Again, his tail was wagging, just a bit.

[Kenren]

Larsa

The tiniest wag of a tail - it was enough to make Larsa's chest tighten oddly. It made him wonder which of them was more starved for attention. When the wind hit he didn't even notice the boy's discomfort at his proximity - his mind had moved to the impending threat and how best to deal with it. They didn't have long, so he might have to-

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the small nod of the grey head. Larsa looked back to him from the horizon, a little startled. He hadn't really expected a response. Nothing the boy had done thus far had given him reason to think he even really understood him. The grey stood, body lanky and thin, turning his head to - where? But he had to assume the boy knew where he was going, otherwise they were about to be very, very cold. "Lead on, then. I'll follow."