My conversation with Anselm has left an unusual flavour in my mind; I am drawn to the possibilities and what ifs of the past. I am drawn to consider what might have transpired had I stood in for Heyel, forcing Solaris back and allowing Heyel to continue on towards whatever death he desired. I do not say a natural death for the one we provided was natural too; we enacted as nature intends and thus, he ought to have nothing to complain about. Would he, though, have hailed me a hero? Kept it hush-hush and quiet? Or would he have done what his family has done in the past, marking me a traitor regardless of my attempts to rectify the issue at hand? I would save him, I think, and so he would condemn me. It matters not, though, for the pride in his voice (a mere whisper) told me all I needed to know: despite his accusation, it was an end fitting for even him. Still, it is an interesting avenue to ponder. I do not think Solaris would ponder it so eagerly, though.
I have found myself a rather nice place to do such pondering; by the western border, the trees have prevented the snow from reaching the ground and so, even on such a bleak day, I do not feel the cold seep in like liquid. Instead, I am able to enjoy my own warmth, my muzzle buried into the fur of my tail as I watch out across the borders. I am not searching for anything in particular, there is merely a certain joy in watching the world outside of these invisible barriers we create. One might see a child on an adventure, only for them to suddenly pause and pivot, as if they have encountered some jutting cliff rather than the mere scent of another. This woman, though, seems intend not to do so.
I watched her for some time as she approached the boundary; she moves with a purpose against the early morning backdrop, undeterred by the silence and cold that bite through the air. She does not call for me or any other and yet, she does not cross; she merely seems to wait and so do I. I am inclined to merely observe her for some time before I gradually begin to rise, stretching out my legs and spine before I begin to lope towards her. Perhaps she does not wish to see any other, content to merely stare into a land she cannot enter and yet, that is simply unfortunate for her. She has caught my eye and so, I shall pry all that I desire.
I move towards her from her side, my tail arcing slightly over my back and yet, my strides are loose and fluid. I move with ease until I am close enough to be heard, my voice as cool as the morning air as I seek out the darkness of her eyes.