Entering the forest was inviting a chill in. Regardless of the time of year, a noticeable drop in temperature welcomed him each visit. This time was no different. He could feel it sinking into him, feel the tiny fingers of ice digging through the layers of his coat. With the chill came darkness. The branches over head wound so tightly together that the snow rarely went much farther than the treetops. The ground below was dotted sparingly with piles of snow where a thinning of the canopy had allowed some to slip through, but for the most part the ground was bare. This effect strengthened the darkness below and insulated it. Silence reined. All in all it was the perfect place to sulk. His journey to the forest was on the heels of Rhythm's return. He needed a break and craved the silence this place offered. It was a bit gloomy to be a place of healing, but that may not have been what he was looking for. Valentine didn't know what he wanted, he just wanted. A distraction, a break, something. And he did not want to go home.

The land suited his mood more than it might have otherwise have done. Katja had come to him not long ago and given him warning that she was moving the pack. It's not that he hadn't believed her, but it hadn't really sunk in until he'd watched the rest of the pack disappear out of the lake region. It had only been Rommel's presence that had given him the strength to take the first steps to follow them, Rommel who had kept him from crumpling to the ground the further he got from his brother's resting place. He'd gone north with Yfir, but wished he'd hadn't. But when he'd wandered south once again - disregarding Katja's edict for healers to bring someone with them, because wasn't Rommel just as good as any Yfir wolf? - he'd forced himself to stay away from the east. He couldn't... couldn't go back right now even as drawn there as he was, a moth to the flame, because like a moth he wouldn't leave again, not alive. He'd lay down and die on Sigmarr's grave and he was perceptive enough to recognize his own self-destructive behavior and not put himself in that position. And so he was here. Curled up on a stump, staring blankly into the fog. He'd sent Rommel off some time ago, so he was alone. Alone, on a stump, in a foggy swampy forest, brooding. ""

Valentine soon found himself in the heart of the forest. Very little sunlight reached these parts. What little managed to make it through the limbs illuminated the fog that hung in the air below. It was dark, dank and gloomy, and it suited his present mood. He was beginning to wonder if he just needed to find a good place to sulk. Up ahead a smear of red caught his eye. It was dulled by the darkness and fog, but in a place that was painted in shades of gray, that single splash of color stood out sharply. The King stilled as he considered his next move. He wasn't particularly keen on company, at least not the kind he'd just happen upon. Valentine didn't feel up for niceties. After a moment's thought it occurred to Valentine that he'd seen that particular coat pattern before. He hadn't recognized Kassander at first since the brute was curled up on a stump with his back to the King, but how many wolves could possibly sport those markings? Creeping closer, Valentine sought to circle around the brute until he could see his face. "Kassander?"

Wrapped in his misery and the silencing effects of the fog, Kassander wasn't aware of Valentine's presence until the familiar voice spoke to him. He dragged his head up, a blank two-toned stare settling on the taller, darker male. He'd forgotten this forest was so close to Valentine's pack - or maybe he'd known and come here hoping to see him. No... No he hadn't. The very idea terrified him. Everyone he ever cared about died, or betrayed him, or ran away from him. His closest mentor Elsa dead, her mate and their children who knew where, his own mother gone, his sisters gone, Virgil betrayed them and left, Sigmarr died, even Drashiel who he'd known for such a short time, his silly puppy-love crush, had died. Wasn't it better to just avoid that? Just stay away from anyone but the Yfir wolves with their indifference and their hardness. But even Katja and Kapra had each other. Even seemingly unfeeling vikings could form bonds. Why should he be so afraid to? Afraid that his very fears would cause him to lose even more. "Valentine?" he finally asked hoarsely in response, blinking at the Imperialis male as his focus slowly dragged away from his own thoughts to land back on the male. He didn't know what else to say, but a faint stirring of shame touched him, knowing that while Valentine's scent still declared him alpha, Kassander was... just another Yfir wolf. Back to being nothing again. ""

Kassander was slow to stir. When he lifted his head to look at Valentine his eyes took their sweet time in focusing. He seemed...confused? Out of it? Unwell? Immediately the King knew something was wrong. He tentatively stepped closer. What he wanted to do was close the distance and make sure everything was okay, but a small, nagging part of him held him back and told him the gesture might be unwelcome no matter how good his intentions might be. His name fell from Kassander's lips in rough voice that only served to up Valentine's concern. Gone were his self-centered thoughts and desire for a pity party. They meant nothing, were nothing, now that he was confronted with this broken king. He couldn't claim to have a hold of a piece of Kassander's heart, couldn't even claim the title 'friend', but he himself cared enough about the other to want him to be well. Clearly he wasn't. Aw, fuck it. Etiquette was overrated. Valentine decided to take his chances. He stepped closer and sought to gently bump Kassander's shoulder with his nose. His tone soft, he asked, "Is everything alright, Kassander? You look unwell." That was putting it nicely. He looked like he could crawl off somewhere and die.

The unexpected physical contact as Valen gently bumped his shoulder caused him to shrink back - not because he didn't want to be touched, but because the sudden flare of gratitude for the simple touch, the desire to just lean into it, startled him and he resorted to his habitual shy withdrawal. Still, that brief contact cleared some of the fog of his brooding, and he really focused his attention on Valentine. Was everything all right? Was anything all right? "Everything's fine!" he claimed squeakily, his words coming out high and fast in his nervous lie. No need to dump all his problems on Valentine, no. He was an alpha still, he had his own problems to deal with, he didn't need Kassander whining at him. "How about you? How's Imperium? Have you found a mate yet? Any kids?" He was babbling, he knew, but he kept his gaze firmly averted from Valen's, resting it somewhere around the larger male's chest, in the hopes that he wouldn't be able to read it. He was ashamed to realize he couldn't remember if Valen had a mate and pups the last time he'd been here. Had he smelled puppies? He couldn't remember. Was it any wonder Ebony had been a failure under his leadership when he'd not taken note of anything important when he'd met the other packs? All because he'd been too nervous and too fearful to pay attention to anything other than being nervous and fearful. ""

He didn't know what, if anything, he'd been expecting from Kassander, but he was surprised by the reaction he got. The auburn king pulled away and perhaps wisely, he decided not to press it. Valentine didn't know if he should regret the gesture or not. Regardless, he couldn't take it back. Seating himself slowly, the brute quietly studied his companion as the smaller man insisted everything was alright. He didn't believe him. Every bit of him practically screamed that something was amiss, and the words didn't quite ring true. Valentine knew when he was being lied to. Kassander went on to change the subject by asking a stream of questions and once he was done silence briefly fell between the two as Valen decided on a course of action. Not for one second did he believe Kassander. After a moment's thought, the brute rumbled, "You, my friend, are a horrific liar." He sighed and took a deep, seemingly resigned breath and said, "But if this what you want to go with, so be it. I am good, never better. Imperium is the same. Watching it grow pleases me greatly. No, I don't have a mate. I do have kids though and if I may say so myself," His tone took on a proud edge, "They are the best damn kids in Alacritia." Slyly, he queried, "And what of you, Kassander?" Come on now, how could he possibly have thought he could get away from the questions so easily?