Every time he witness her smile it seemed like a personal victory to the vanner man. This woman who seemed to have been so broken down and betrayed by the words of others. The earth’s loving embrace had not touched her soul or her heart, leaving her lonely and without a creature to depend on. He could see it made her strong in a different light. She did not know it, but her independence was startling. As was her the illusion of weakness she had created for herself. His heart broke that the only thing she could see was that she was broken. To him she was as whole and healthy as he was. He shifted slightly when she pointed out she would not be there now if fate had not led her down this path. Another snort emitted from his nose, though this one far less irritated; pointing out that she was right but he did really want to admit it. Turning his head, a little abashed, he would not admit that her words pleased him. If someone had brought her into their home, he would not have had the chance to meet her. A selfish grin creased his lips. From every bad thing arose something great. His mood towards what had happened to Amica shifted, and he reminded himself that every life has its cycle, much like the seasons that gripped the land. From sorrow came happiness, only to return again. Every death was merely a change and from it came life. As he looked at her, he yearned to show her a new life, if she would step into it. Laughter rolled from his chest. “I can be very stubborn.” He pointed out the obvious. Her laughter, like her smile, created a glowing feeling in his body. The humor faultered. He lifted his face into the wind and scented the air. Winter was coming soon to the Crossing, which meant it was already stepping foot on Tinuvel. Frost had already kissed the trees and the earth would be frozen under his feet when he stepped on the shores. Rivers had started to steam in their movements where icicles had clung to the shallow rocks. He could only imagine what the winter waves were going to look like in a few weeks time. “The middle of autumn.” He said warily, regret tinging his words. “By the end winter has already made itself at home.” A heavy sigh breathed from him. He took steps forward, once more brushing her side with his soft white nose, taking in her scent. “If I cannot make it back before then, I will come visit when the waters are crossable again.”