- Ever knocked on the sky and had it fall on your head?
He was going insane. He was not sure how many times the sun had fallen since he'd seen her, but he was getting desperate. He needed to see her, to make sure she was okay. See if she hadn't forgotten him, and if she was enjoying her new home. There was no word that they were south, he knew they could not be west, and so north he marched. He marched, and he marched for hell or high water would not stop him. Recounting her face over, and over he kept it there to remind him, to push him onward. He missed her eletric blue eyes, and wild mane. He missed her playful laugh, and impish grin. The way she had him stalling in thought, and guessing what was to come. He missed her, he was certain there was a part of his soul hurting it brought a huge ache, a huge hole only she could fill in his chest. They had to be somewhere, and he was not going back to Swift River until he did.
Where did he start looking? The woods. It was the furthest out of unclaimed territory, and his intuition seemed to tell him he was so very close he was only missing them by miles. This time, with great swiftness, and purpose he made his coarse along the mountain not to miss them. He was so emotionally exhausted he didn't feel the cruel pricks of the thistles, and thorns nor rough branches of the trees. He pushed on with a determination the boy in him had ever known to find Volkan.
His route a flexuous thing, he meandered letting his nostrils twitch at ever step, every breath deep for a trace of Volkan, Ruiko, or Kinis. Sometimes he would pause just to strain his ears for sound, a voice, a whisper of whom he missed. In the cold of winter, he became hot from his search if wolves could sweat he would have been soaked to the bone. He had to press away the what ifs, he didn't care what Rhysis had said any more. So he had told himself time, after time. It would only be Volkan who could change his mind. Maybe she had some new friends, maybe she had found someone better. Distance could make love go weak, or stronger. Hopefully he would soon learn which.
Slowly his march became a slow swagger, and the scent of water teased him to find it. He had come a distance, and decided a drink could not hurt. It wouldn't do him any good to meet her in a state of weariness. A snort merely to himself, and his weak body he bent from the rough foliage, and worked his way to the clear water. It was perfect among the woods, yet at the same time like someone had put it there, where it did not belong. He cocked his head, entranced by the ice, and snow. Even more puzzled by how it remained. He slowly made his way to the running part of it, and sipped in the brisk liquid. It tasted better than anything he had tasted. He stopped before he was content, not wanting to give himself a gut ache. Now, he just felt so...alone. It was too quiet here making him feel apart from the world. Slowly he tipped back his back head, and sang a sad song of wanting.