The ghost sauntered through the red giants of the Kingswood at a leisurely pace, as the sky above him was still dark and dotted with stars. There was a soft glow of light behind him, illuminating the dark trees as the sun threatened to spill over the edge of the horizon. Everything around him was calm, soothing even, but he—he was not.
His conversation with Aleksei still weighed heavy in the back of his mind, a constant nagging; gnawing. He had still yet to approach the younger, ebony Baranski for he was not sure how to string his words together—not yet. A frown cut deep into his dark lips, making the Arctic appear much older than he was. All his worrying was catching up with him. Making him feel more tired; more frustrated. He had yet to speak with his mate either, but he knew he had to. Even if it meant adding more worry to her already anxious mind. Between the both of them they carried enough stress, but it was never-ending. Just when things started to look like they were getting better they would crash back down, setting them back ten steps.
A sigh escaped him, heavy with the grief he carried inside of him.
Part of him still wished he had moved the back elsewhere—perhaps deeper into the forest, or by the shores of the lake he was heading to. Hearthwood had been his home for quite some time, but it no longer felt like a home. It was simply a place he occupied occasionally, when sleep dragged his weary paws back to the den he shared with Lilya and their twins, or when he needed to speak to one of his subordinates.
The trees began to part as he neared the sandy beach, his expression softening as the dim morning light caught the mirror-like surface of the water. Despite the serenity of the scene his woes did not loosen their grip. They remained, desperately gripping on to his thoughts, taunting him.
As he moved closer to the water the temperature dropped around him, so sudden that it nearly took his breath away. The Arctic stopped, his brows pinched tight as he surveyed his surroundings, the fur on the back of his neck standing up. It didn’t feel right but he couldn’t leave, for his paws remained rooted to the spot. For a moment, the lake became unfamiliar, as though he had stepped into a different place; a different lake. He gave his head a small shake, his fur bristling.
stick with those who stick with you