stranger than earth

her heaven is only half alive
i fell asleep in his, but he could not breathe in mine

She’d yet to truly meet many other souls here, for with the north brought desolation and scarcity. Only the hardest-faring wolves could survive, and oftentimes they too fled south during the thickest of winters. This season was not wrought with famine and treacherous weathers as much as it may have been in more historic eras, but neither was this one kind. Jendayi almost entertained the idea that there were no permanent residents here—and that the only souls she did see where passersby, just like her. Solitude, unlike Kai, however, was something Jendayi craved. It allowed her the peace of her own study and exploration, and did not fetter her to a company she’d have to entertain—and even further, did not have to worry about. Even a stoic creature such as herself had a very soft heart, and often Jendayi found those few companions who did join her for excursions were victim to her constant nitpicking. She’d never wanted to be responsible for the safety of another. It was perhaps why she had detached herself so much. It is within her own thoughts (and lack of sleep catching up to her in the worst of ways) that causes Kai’s presence to slip from her notice. She appears almost sleeping, if not restlessly, twisting and turning with each position growing uncomfortable and desperate for the sun’s reach. Her own noisy shuffling distracts her, and her nose had long grown cold and numb from the snow. She did not often let her guard down, but she had grown too comfortable in a land where nothing had yet tried to kill her—and it would cost her, even now.

All was warm and dry one moment, and then the next, there was a sheer smack of frost against her pelt that caused her to yelp, to wrench her head in a fervent whiplash, golden gaze wide and wild like a frightened doe. Quick was the small woman to her paws, spurning up the loose snow fallen all around her. Tendrils of wintry fur were disheveled and covered in the alabaster powder, the aftermath of Kai’s trick evident all across her messy, lithe frame. “Spirits!” she curses, lips baring over teeth in a startled half-snarl. Her gaze quickly finds the perpetrator, and while her fur is raised about her plush nape and her teeth are bared and glinting in the sharp sunlight, she is otherwise unaggressive. Jendayi was merely taken by surprise (and figured, perhaps, if he was not attacking her now, he’d no intention of killing her—or worse). 

I was sleeping, she wanted to say, but instead kept herself silenced. She did not know this man, and despite his clever and self-satisfied demeanor she did not want to trust this was all just a jest. She’d been taught to be skeptical, if anything, and more often than not flight would win over fight, given her small size and stature, and general lack of protective capability. He was much larger—but he was also alone. She considered these things, if only to potect herself. A single paw stepped backward, and between them she created more space; that was, until one more step back brought her onto the frozen lake, and the sudden shift from firm to slippery terrain caused Jendayi to lose her balance, and fall into the snowbank beside her with a loud cry. Damnit! she thought, quickly fighting away the snow in an attempt to get back on her paws, now I must look terrible. She was used to the mud, the earth, the thick gnarled roots of the mangroves and the deep-settled mud. The winter was unkind to her, and the north did not resonate nearly as well with Jendayi as it did for the man before her (and it most certainly showed).