The world around her was cold. It felt real, yet there was no possible way that she could be at the pines. She had known her mind to lose itself, to run with her and leave lands behind, but to traverse all the way from Auster to Northern Boreas. And yet, seeing the pines, feeling the cold, Bellamy would step forward and welcome the chill in the air. This was not a place of nightmares, nor was it a place she never hoped to return to. When she had been looking for places to bring her family, she had considered the pines. But no, this had been the home of Winterfell. Of the pack Acere had held. It had been the first place she had been shown kindness, made to feel like she wasn’t the beast that the Empire made her believe she was. Her rage faltered in the face of it, her fur resting flat against her body as she drank in its familiarity.
…and then, there was a voice.
Bellamy turned to him. He looked younger, healthy and whole again. Well, as whole as he had been when she had met him. The scars were part of him. Bellamy stepped forward, helping to close the distance between them. Her ears perked toward him. Divinities above… How long had it been since she encountered him last? A year? Longer? It had been too long, a blessing to meet him even if he bore the form of something else. He had gone before they could finish speaking. And now… Bellamy managed a sad smile. It was comforting to see him at such a dark time in her life.
“Acere… It truly has been too long.” Her words were gentle, the fire that had been burning with her dying down before him. As angry as she was, she could not hold that fire in the presence of her friend. He had shown her so much, and she regretted ever stepping away from Winterfell. But what good would looking back at those days do now? Winterfell was gone. And yet… Bellamy gave a small chuckle. “It is fitting to show up here, when my anger burns with such rage that it could turn me to ashes.” She sits, content to spend time with him. To be able to talk again, for however long they had.
“This place holds the likeness of Winterfell. Of better days.” Her gaze swept the landscape and she drew in a breath. “A shame that all good things come to an end…” Her green gaze flicked back to him. “...were you able to reach Ignis at all?” There is so much to tell him, things to catch up on, and yet despite the weights on her, Bellamy can not focus solely on that. She wanted the normality that came with talking to her friend. Just like all those years ago.
"Speech," 'Thought.'
Berserker
