long time coming

The man would return to the site with little reason to do so. The snow beneath him compressing with each powerful stride that pulled him forward. Perhaps he sought Basilisk's company, seeking the boy where he had last seen him. But as the caves drew near his heart was set upon the desire for another's company entirely. Always the scent would be familiar and mistaken for an old trail for in their physicality and in their likeness they were nearly identical, the man and his son. He would find the mirror of his likeness lingering at the mouth of the caves, his chest ever white as the snow upon the ground. He was glad to see the son in such an orderly state and could not help the content smile that spread upon his otherwise tight lips and break his ever stoical expression. A bark would quicken his pace and cause the mirror image to grow until their statures would equal another. The winter sun warming his body which had cooled in the darkness of the caves. "Erebos." the man's deep voice would ring, the name accentuated with perfection and spoken with thickness, with meaning.