In case Jessie or Drestig still wants to join, I'm fine with it. Ice is making his way towards the border but he's not there yet.
you do not know who is your friend
and who is your enemy
This, a ghost: sturdy bones creating a tall, gaunt creature, messy white fur draped over the skeleton. Shoulders and hips jutting beneath a flimsy cover of skin and thin muscle; only the thickness of his fur served to mask his ribs, but nothing—nothing—about him seemed healthy. Despite the hair, his sides were obviously sunken, and what should've been a mostly silver coat in the process of being shed was matted and dirtied in spite of the best efforts of Jessie, Adelayde, and himself.
A sick wolf just wasn't easy to keep clean, and sick was exactly what Ice was—or had been, he tentatively thought as he peered at his own reflection in the stream meandering by near the medicinal den. Even his eyes, usually so lively and bright, were tired, as they rippled in the water beneath him. It was hard for him to understand how he had fallen, so fast and so low, and frustrating to accept that his aging body was slow in recovering. All of winter was lost in a haze in his mind, hidden behind a curtain of fever and delirium.
While most of his symptoms had abated, he was still lethargic and weak—in no fit state to journey for days on end. Merely walking for five minutes left him desperately short of breath, but the combination of slowly lengthening days and his own clarity renewed the itch in his soul. He was fairly sure he had asked someone to send a runner to Oak Tree Bend, but he wasn't sure if it had happened; possibly, he'd only dreamed of making the request.
Restlessness drove him out of the den more and more often, but almost every time he found himself defeated by his wheezing breathing or a lingering cough. Angrily, he stared at the creek.
Every day he lost up here was another day Serach would be hard-pressed to forgive him for.
Would he even listen to Ice's explanations?
A howl sang through the crisp northern air, a voice so painfully familiar his head snapped up, ears forward, heart hammering. Lila! How? Why? She called for Jessie and Drestig, and in the silence after her voice faded he struggled against himself; had it even been real, or just a figment of his imagination? A desire so strong that his failing mind created it..?
He had to try. The border was far, further than he had managed, but if she was real, and if she was here... Ice licked his lips, tipped his head back, and answered her call; sad and tired and joyous all at once, crying out her name, out of breath before he had even begun. Suspecting his body would give him hell to pay later he set off towards the border, slow and halting, stumbling and staggering.
He wasn't going to give up. He was going to get back.until the ice breaks.
let the stars above shine in your soul