It was a lot to take in. Too much, frankly. Aleksei simply needed something to occupy his thoughts, away from Hearthwood, away from the resting place of his father. It was still so hard to believe, and every time the thought passed through his mind, the first born Baranski felt his mouth grow dry and the pounding in his heart grow frantic; the river patriarch was dead.
I never even said goodbye.
No, no. He had taken this walk so he could clear his thoughts! But, it was hard. It was hard to shake grief off your back, it was hard to put it down and come back for it later. Grief, after all, was a nasty thing that fed off trauma. It was gnarled fingers coiled in your hair, it was biting teeth that split the skin layer by layer, it was white hot burning at the back of your throat; suffocation. A shadowy avalanche that came screaming down towards you, swallowed you up -- grief was not a push-over.
It didn't matter how much you wished it away, grief would linger until it felt ready to leave, until it deemed enough time had passed. In that sense, it was a mercy -- it wouldn't stay forever, not really. All creatures eventually pass grief, and move on with their lives. Given time, it becomes acceptance. It's gradual: coiled fingers easing their vice grip, gnawing teeth becoming weaker and weaker, the hot in your throat cooling down -- your head finally breaking the snow and seeing clear blue skies.
Eventually.
Casting his own gaze heavenward, Aleksei exhale a cold puff of air. Above him, stars stretched on seemingly forever. He blinked, confused for a moment -- he had left Kingsfall with the rising sun. Had he really travelled for so long? Furrowing his brows, the Baranski released a sigh. He'd best not stray too far, not again. He didn't want to give the wrong impression.
He would turn around and head home when he saw the moon begin to ease down. For now, the cool night air was filling his lungs, the mist at his ankles carrying him onward, the stars above gazing down as if a hundred-thousand eyes were watching. He would turn around. He just needed a moment to collect his thoughts. Just a moment.