Winter had blanketed much and more of the world in snow and ice. The summit of the mountains was no longer reachable, the snow so dangerously deep that to even try to move so far north would be a treacherous endeavor. So instead, I had decided to travel south. Fleet paws carried me through the foothills and towards the river, a place I so often went when I wanted a respite from the mountain, even if only for a couple hours. It was close to home, close enough that if something were to happen I would be able to hear a call that was meant for me. As I so often did, I moved along the western bank of the river, away from the more commonly visited areas along the eastern bank. I glanced across the waters to the opposite bank, recollecting on that day when I had first met Jericho. A warmness welled in my chest at the memory of that day. But I worried for my friend, for he had come back to the mountain on days ago coated in blood. Injured, he had actually suggested that maybe he should leave and come back another time. Of course I had insisted that he stay. We may not have the best healers in Moladion, but Niviaq and Ceal were more than capable of caring for his wounds.

Knowing he was safe within Spirane’s borders put my heart at ease, even as I jogged further away from them. I left a pristine trail of paw prints in my wake, perfect in every way; I never dragged my paws or missed a step, so they were immaculate stamps in the snow. Eventually they would come closer together, however, as I slowed to a walk, turning towards the source-head of the Aplos. I stepped closer to the bank, meaning to get myself a fresh drink of water. Today would not be a day for walking into the river and feeling its power. For today its power was far too great, the coldness would freeze me and suck the very life from my bones. I was not so foolish as to tempt fate. Instead, I looked down into the crystalline ice that had formed in the shallow edges of the river head. My reflection bounced back at me in many broken shards, and for a moment I simply stared down into my mahogany pools that glared back at me. Brows furrowed, inexplicably frustrated, and I swiped a paw forward to break the ice and the mirror. Lowering my maw to the opening I had created, I lapped at the freezing water. Slowly I took my drink, careful not to rush myself and create a mind numbing headache.

Once I had had my fill, I lifted my crown and gazed once more across the river. Despite my best efforts to repress such thoughts, I found myself wondering where he was. Part of me wished I was somehow tethered to him in the way I was to Meryl, so that I would always know the general vicinity of his location and if he was hurting or happy. Even though I had attacked him, wanted him to feel the ferocity behind my bite and the aching he had caused me, I still wanted him to be happy. He was my painted warrior, and he always would be. But it had become far too evident that we were no good for each other. We constantly wrought each other’s hearts, tearing them to bits and then expecting to still be able to love one another. I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply as I so often did when I found myself musing over what could have been. And then I exhaled, trying to let it all go, and only managing to form a cloud of vapor before my nose.