No Poetry but the Stars

He could catch the stranger’s scent now— she was female, and certainly not an apparition. The two had closed the distance between each other, and were near enough to sit down and have a civil conversation. She sat before him, paws turned towards each other at an awkward angle. He joined her, wrapping his bushy tail over his paws. Asmul could see the stranger’s eyes at this distance— they were two different colors and noticeably warm with kindness. She responded to Asmul’s question, and he found himself feeling rather embarrassed— she probably got that question all the time. He glanced down and to the side, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. ”Oh,” he said quietly, for the night wasn’t loud and voices projected well over the icy expanse. ”I’m sorry— I meant no offense.” He looked up to meet her eyes as she asked her questions.
What was he doing here? He didn’t quite know himself, honestly. Missing home, he supposed. The woman followed up with a second question quickly, though, giving him an excuse to skip the first. ”Yes, this is the farthest North you can travel, at least on Boreas. If you can cross the seas against the tide, there’s more. Islands, for sure. Perhaps an even bigger mainland. Really,”— he smiled a bit, the thrill of mystery and adventure rising within him— ”there are limitless possibilities.” He eyed the woman, looking her up and down. Who comes to Cathedral Point anyway? Asmul was sure the cold was too intense for most wolves to handle. ”What brings you all the way up here?” He asked.