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// he stole her coat! thief!

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                     ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ @ophthalmology.
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               ⠀ (  .. )⠀⠀ ❛  cunning little creature
            was she, assuming as if he weren't already aware of her intentions. he sat upon the pegasus, the slightest touch sending delicate feathers ruffling beneath his padded fingers. the reaper willed the creature to still. he watched liora with a grit of concern and amusement. one part of him wanted to punish her for not keeping her word; the other wanted to see what she would do. neither part existed without the other, clashing endlessly within him. rurik peeled off his gloves and curled his tongue inward, blowing a quiet whistle as he nudged the horse with his thigh, moving into her peripheral vision. ᅠ⋆     that, perhaps, ought to be a lesson on why you shouldn't steal what isn't yours.      ❛  his voice remained grounded in low gravel. he masked the amusement beneath a husk, though fascination lingered. clearly, she was a rule breaker, even in the midst of this storm. ᅠ⋆   did a little birdy tell you where to find me?    
            
                ⠀⠀ ❛   he urged the pegasus to circle her. creature and prey caught in a snare of games it felt trifling, yet he wanted to test the reins, to see how far he could press her before she snapped. ⋆    i hope you found the tracks enduring. now, come closer and let me have a look at my map.

⠀     ᅠ⋆  she  followed  the  trail  leading  south,  but  when  the  road  disappeared  beneath  dirt  and  more  trees  appeared,  she  slowed,  pulling  out  her  map.  again,  his.  something  she  cherished  far  more  than  she  would  ever  admit.  his  hunting  tools,  his  notes,  his  stories  had  become  an  obsession.  she  had  even  taken  pictures  of  his  notebook  on  her  phone.  she  pulled  out  the  device  now,  tapping  the  blinking  notification.  the  gps  indicated  she  was  a  bit  off,  so  she  followed  the  direction,  climbing  to  her  right.  but  she  halted  when  both  the  map  and  the  tracking  app  insisted  she  was  in  the  right  spot.  except  she  saw  nothing  but  trees.  she  stilled,  listening.  the  forest  was  breathtaking,  but  now  it  felt  uncertain.  
            
            ⠀     ᅠ nameless  wanted  to  curse.  she  moved  around,  holding  up  the  phone.  the  moving  dot  on  the  screen  flickered  green,  flashing  violently.  it  was  acting  strange.  she  walked  a  few  steps  forward,  and  the  dot  edged  away  from  her.  she  stepped  back,  and  it  moved  toward  her.  it  was  the  most  perplexing  thing  she’d  ever  seen.  she  shook  the  phone,  shoving  the  map  back  into  her  pocket,  still  unfolded. ⋆  [THREE] 
            
             /   ;)

⠀     ᅠ⋆  the  brightness  of  the  snow  was  nearly  blinding.  fallen  branches,  the  soft  chirp  of  winter  birds,  and  a  strange,  heavy  silence  filled  the  woods.  it  was  the  kind  of  silence  that  felt  alive,  like  the  forest  was  listening.  she  walked  for  about  twenty  minutes  following  the  footsteps,  then  another  twenty  when  she  stilled,  confusion  marring  her  face.  the  footsteps  looped  in  a  wide  circle.  by  the  third  time  she  circled  back  to  the  same  spot,  she  felt  beyond  perplexed.  
            
            ⠀     ᅠ tracking  had  been  easier  in  the  desert.  she  had  been  skilled  beyond  her  age.  but  this?  this  was  madness.  she  looked  around,  surrounded  by  towering  trees  and  complete  silence.  but  a  small  fury  still  burned  inside  her.  she  walked  the  opposite  direction  of  the  looping  steps,  cutting  left  through  the  trees.  after  what  felt  like  an  eternity,  she  saw  the  peak  of  a  narrow  pathway  carved  into  the  side  of  a  small  hill.  nameless  fastened  her  steps  and  came  to  the  edge  of  the  small  cliff.  the  end  of  it  connected  to  a  trail  leading  toward  the  road.  she  slowly  climbed  down,  feeling  a  strange  swell  of  accomplishment.  she  was  used  to  desolate  places,  sleeping  alone  outside  when  she  was  thrown  out  or  abandoned  by  her  captors.  growing  up  in  the  hot  deserts,  endless  terrains  of  sand,  and  walking  for  days  from  the  age  of  ten  into  her  early  twenties  had  built  her  into  this  human.  silence  didn’t  scare  her.  noise  dia.  people  did.  walking  by  the  side  of  the  road  was  nothing.  she  reached  inside  her  coat  pocket  and  pulled  out  the  compass.  another  thing  she’d  stolen  off  rurik.  *

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                     ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ @khiliasmos.
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            ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀     ⠀⠀     ⠀⠀⠀ ꓄ʰᵉ λᵖᵖˡᵉ
            
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                    ⠀  (  .. )⠀⠀ ❛  or perhaps..        mending the broken promise between them is what might give him the peace he sought desperately. rurik finished sara’s unspoken thought. long fingers curled tightly around the sheen glass, the ice cubes within clanking softly as he turned the glass in his hand. the hollow noise settled into the back of his skull, unable to numb the slow burn pressing behind his temples. the fire burned hotter afore him, sickle shaped flames curling along the blackened wood. even the cold drag of the old whiskey did little. he was not a drinker, nor one who indulged often in smoke. if an occasion called for it, he obliged for the sake of company. but deep down, he loathed the cancerous vice all the same. ⋆
            
            ⠀⠀⠀    what deal did you make, sara?         ⠀  (  .. )⠀⠀ ❛  reaching forward, he lowered himself on his haunches, bending on his right knee. the glass tilted slowly in his hand as the whiskey poured in a thin amber ribbon against the brick edge of the fireplace.         the liquor struck the heat with a faint hiss before slipping into the coals. for a moment the flames leapt greedily, licking brighter with a sharp crackle as the spirit caught and burned away in a brief flare of heat. the fire answered with a hotter breath, brushing his face and hands, yet it merely warmed his skin as though trying to temper the unnatural chill that clung to his blood. ⋆         perhaps, it is not sleep but rather the acknowledgment of what remains unsaid.     then it might come. sleep, if it may, to whisk me away from this hell, no?