It was beautiful, in these cold, frigid lands. Despite the constant chill he felt, he could not deny the allure of the North. He barely even felt this cold, now, as he walked delicately on thick ice, weaving in and out of trees. The trees... they were submerged, in a lake that was now frozen. The tops of the trees poked through, and it was an utterly bizarre sight; he never expected to see such a thing. It was oddly refreshing, after he fled his father's lands. The boy flinched at the thought. Despite this season being his birth season, and him turning three years of age, he felt like a little pup. He was worthless. He disappointed his family, irreparably, and that was the only reason he was there. Worthless, broken, Starling. That's all he was. As if sensing the darkening of his mood, Stella swooped and landed on his head, chirping softly and wordlessly. He shook his head roughly, knocking her off. "Go away," he muttered, anger and self-loathing in his voice. He didn't want her pity. He didn't want anyone's pity. He just wanted to see his one friend who he hadn't disappointed, and the one person he felt happy around. Taking a deep breath, Starling threw back his head and called out lightly for Cathaoir, hoping the male was around. If he wasn't, Starling wasn't certain what he'd do. "Burn Baby Burn" || "Bruciare Bambino Bruciare"

It had been a long time since he had heard from his brown and white friend. He was starting to think that he had left him without a word. This made the tall wolf sulk, but he was all he could think about when he was sick and stuck in his den. He had thought back to the first moment that they met, when he could hardly get anything out when he was speaking to Cathaoir. They had gone up the volcano to look for a rare herb, and the rocks had shifted. He had saved his life that day, and from that moment on he was hardly without Starling. Even though his pack was in the north and his in the east, they always made it work. It was worth the traveling to see his dearest and nearest companion, and the world slipped away. Nothing else mattered but him and Star. One would think that in his absence he would have devoted more time to Yfir. He wanted to, except for the sickness that ravaged his body. It was in these moments that he had wished for the smaller man even more. What had taken him away from here, from him? Cath worried that he had done something to wrong the healer, or didn't come away to visit often enough. But he had an obligation to his pack, he couldn't be gone most of the time. He had been slacking in that department, and he knew that he needed to step up his game. Once he was feeling back to normal, he would be on his way to the battlefield and calling for a match. For now, his head pounded too much to even think about it. The gray man let out a sigh, nibbling on his ribbon marked leg as he laid in the snow. He watched as it drifted slowly towards the earth, making everything seem more silent and quaint. When the howl rose up from him, he nearly thought that he was dreaming. His head snapped to attention, minty eyes gazing into the distance. Could it be? Or had he simply been thinking about him too much, his mind conjuring up a ghost of his call? Cathaoir didn't want to chance it, so he slowly rose to his paws and made his way out of claimed land and into the unknown. Even though he had lived up north for some time now, he still hadn't gotten around to exploring it too much. His coat had grown thicker though, he was no longer effected by the chill. This winter was a mild one though, but that did not mean that there was no snow. It just wasn't as cold as it had been, he could walk freely at night without risking freezing his nose off. A sidelong smile tugged on his lips for a moment, but vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He was on a mission, an investigation to see about this ghost of his. He reached a field of ice, and squinted across it in utter amazement. At his paws was nearly crystal clear ice where the snow had blown off the top of the lake, and he could see a whole world below him. The grass way down below was still green, bushes and trees in suspended animation. Only the very tip of the trees poked out of their icy homes, the wind ruffling the pine tops. How odd would that feel, to have the whole bottom half completely frozen with only your head up above? He didn't linger on it too long, but found that he was walking with his head down. Soon the snow became thicker though, obscuring his view from the world below. It gave him a more sure footing though, and as he raised his head he was able to pick up into an easy lope. The layers of snow cushioned each paw that fell, making his movement almost silent. He stifled the need to cough, his ears fully alert for any signs of the wolf he longed to see. He froze when he rounded the top of another tree, seeing Starling standing there. The monotone* male felt as if his heart skipped a beat, but yet he still lingered where he stood. He was unsure if this was something his still healing body had come up with, teasing him with everything he longed for. So his steps were hesitant as he walked towards the other male. It took him several moments to get to his side, minty gaze locked on his blue eyes. Without a word he reached out with his nose, brushing it across his cheek. When he felt the soft fur tickle his nostrils, his body melted. All tension washed away, the cough he had been holding slipping out from his throat. "Starling," he breathed, his name coming out in a large exhale. The tightness that had been around his chest vanished as he pushed his chest against his, his larger head wrapping around his neck to rest on his shoulder blades. Cathaoir's eyes closed as he held him close, nothing else needed to be said. It was obvious that he had missed him, why wouldn't he? He was the only wolf he had left in his life, besides the members of Yfir. He was the very last wolf he could call a friend, if not more than that simple word. It didn't even begin to describe what he felt for Starling, everything and nothing at the same time. It was explainable, and it made his heart beat faster in his chest. No one had never been able to make him feel the way that he did, some sort of emotion that Cath could not put his paw on. He didn't care to either, they didn't need a label for this. They could just simply be, and continue to grow in whatever this was. Walk, "Talk" Think

Anxious thoughts permeated his entire being as he waited, tense and frozen and scared and regretful. Would Cathaoir come? Would he want to? Did he think Starling abandoned him? Oh, how he hoped not. He wished not for his dearest friend to be stuck with such undesirable and repugnant thoughts, much like the healer himself was. It almost made him regret calling - would it just be better, to disappear like a ghost into the night, to never be seen again? Would it be better that no one heard of him? For him to take a new name, a new identity, and leave this torturous existence behind for a new world, new possibilities and, hopefully, a chance not to disappoint everyone around him? The thought was so tempting. It was so tempting, but he couldn't take that first pawstep. He couldn't just slink away - then he would just be a ghost of Cathaoir's, a phantom who called and left; a despicable, miserable creature who abandoned his closest, and dearest friend. That... That he could not do. No matter how low he was - he thought himself pretty low, too - he was not thatdisgusting of a wolf. Or... so he hoped, anyway.

It was as if time had stopped, or at the very least slowed to a crawl that even a slug or snail would outrace. Starling fidgeted, nails digging into the cold, hard ice with a crunch; A whine threatened to spill from his tightly clenched jaws, his ears flattenning and raising with every thought, every conflicted emotion that soared through his mind. On one paw, he was inexorably excited, to the point he could hardly stand still and was just so impatient for Cathaoir to arrive. He longed for that joy, that happiness that let him forget the world, forget his troubles and his woes. On the other, he was terrified that he disappointed Cathaoir somehow, too, and that the Yfir warrior was not coming to meet him. He wasn't sure how he might have done so, but he had no doubt that he did at some point. It was that fear, that lingering sorrow and the thoughts of his family that made his tail curl between his legs, and his ears to flatten against his head. Then the joy and the excitement would intrude, and his tail started to hesitantly wag, and his ears rose on his head a bit. It was a convoluted vortex of emotions that he was ensnared in, and it was driving him insane. The minutes couldn't pass quick enough. Time did pass, as painful as it was and slow; minutes may have felt like years, but still they passed as time often did: with excruciating care while the ones firmly in its grasp either desired for it to slow down or speed up. Starling was definitely in the latter, but thankfully he did not have to wait much longer.

Shaking himself free of the snow that was beginning to press upon him heavily, blue eyes strained to see through the white particles that floated so annoyingly through the air. Any other moment he found it stark and beautiful, but right now it hindered his sight, and that was one thing he didn't want hindered. It didn't matter much, anyways, because only a few seconds later - days - Cathaoir rounded a tree top. Starling stood frozen, eyes wide in disbelief. Despite everything... he didn't expect the other man to come. He expected that Cathaoir had been too disappointed in him too, and left; to see him was.... Starling didn't even know how to begin to describe the emotions now. The grey marked man stepped over closer to him, and Starling just longed to run to him, but he was encased in ice, a prison that trapped him in his place with the source the feelings that swirled inside of him.

It wasn't until he heard the soft breath of his name that something side of him broke, and he shuddered, tears flowing freely as he returned Cathaoir's affections. He leaned hard into the warrior, his body shaking from the stress and the burdens that weighed so heavily upon him. Starling shoved his nose deep into the thick, warm neck fur of his beloved friend, inhaling deeply the musky scent he was utterly familiar with. The fur, though ticklish, was an utterly welcome sensation; he had not expected in the least that this dream, that this... that this encounter would happen. This was no dream; this was reality, and Starling could not be more thankful.

He pressed into Cathaoir's fur until his shaking, his outpouring of emotion eased, and Cathaoir was there for him, as he always was. No matter what happened, the warrior was there. When his life was in danger, that first meeting, he had been there. Every time he needed escape, every time he needed comfort and serenity, Cathaoir had been there every time - and most of the time, he induced those emotions as well. Lately, there was something more than just a relaxation; there was a an excitement, a trembling in his breast that he couldn't explain, but it was wholly different from any other emotion he experienced, and he only felt it with Cathaoir. While he could feel the relaxation with others, this... this was wholly unique to this man he cared for with every fiber of his being.

"Cathaior," he whispered, the name completely stutter-free. One of the few that were; even his siblings, father, and his friend Lillie's names came out as stutters. But Cathaoir's... his never did. He pulled back slightly from the warrior, but only his head so he could speak clearly. He didn't want to move from Cathaoir's embrace, not now, not ever. He just wanted to stay there, forever. And yet... despite Cahtaoir's presence, something pressed deeply upon him still. That never happened - he always, always managed to block it out. A trouble whine escaped from Starling as he looked down at the ground, the darkness beginning to intrude once more. No! No! He didn't want it to, he was happy. And yet, he found himself pulling away from Cathaoir completely, the tears starting to emerge again. "Oh, Cathaoir!" he sobbed, shaking his head roughly. Blue eyes shimmering with tears met the minty green ones of the wolf he trusted like no other. "I d-don't k-know what t-to do." He whimpered softly, his tall and lanky body trembling. Everything was so wrong, and no doubt he just hurt Cathaoir too and he wanted to melt and disappear - the happiness had been fleeting, and it was already gone, and now he just wanted to cry, curl up in a ball and cry. He was worthless; everyone was disappointed in him and he just kept messing up.

He was a failure.

"Speech"