no reflection

In the east the winters were more wet than white. It was a great change for Deteste who had lived his life so long in the snow but just as the Ludicael had so suddenly settled in his heart so had the charcoal skies and relentless downpours earned their own appreciation. Deteste had been extremely solitary in the past. Where so many others were discouraged by the weather Deteste reveled in the downpours. In the storms he was alone and in the thundering it was as if he himself were not present.


Since his promotion to Sol Deteste had made a habit of regularly exploring neighboring lands to the mangroves. Regarding his fellow Sol's death match he thought it especially important to know the lay of the neighboring lands but more importantly he felt the need to help others. Friends, members, strangers. It did not matter to him. There was much unkindess in the world and he hoped to help benefit other's lives before his time was done.


In the flatness of the Rock Garden Deteste could almost see the horizon. He would be able to see any other traveler and any traveler would be able to see him and his affect was casual according to this fact. His gait was quick to combat the chill of rain and he huffed occasionally, his breath white, to clear the water from his jowls and nose. Upon reaching the summit of the slightest incline of the plains Deteste paused to survey the land before him. This route and custom was extremely familiar to him. He did not expect to have more company than the tall stones that rested in the planes but as he spotted a black form seeking shelter among them. With slight interest the man altered his course in the direction of the stranger but as lightning struck and a frantic cry followed Deteste found it necessary to halt. He observed as his counterpart bolted from his shelter to another. Deteste's ears folded back in confusion. After a pause he approached again but with a slow and cautious gait.


In a few moments he found himself staring at what could have been a smaller reflection of himself. The vagabond as much thinner than himself but his eyes were the same cerulean and the scars riddled across his body mimiced Deteste's affect. He was stunned by their likeness and for a moment could not find the words he meant to speak. Hello, young one. He spoke at least, timbre calm. Are you well? he inquired with sincerity but distance. The boy was frenzied and it was best not to make too great of advances especially with a stranger.