Old age was a terrible thing. The mercenary had steadily been losing his sight… not that it stopped Félicien from trying to train regardless. He was… how old now? Ten? Eleven? He’d lost count somewhere in the years. Silvery eyes were becoming more whitish as cataracts began forming upon them. Félicien felt certain though that his death was not destined in a den home alone. He’d die fighting, just as he’d lived. If that were the case, he thought to himself, he had to become more alert of his surroundings. Get better at moving without his sight. So he’d been practicing… especially here in the North where he’d been hanging out for a good while. Seclusion had become a big part of Félicien’s existence. He didn’t have any friends… and admittedly he felt a touch of loneliness at times. He wondered what had become of Mara and Zephyr… were they doing okay? What of Mara’s kids? Part of him felt guilty for leaving them… but… it was his way. Félicien hadn’t ever settled in one place for too long… and part of him felt, guilty perhaps, at being around Mara after what had happened. ...and what if the same sort of thing happened again, Féli? A little voice inside him asked. The man squashed it down, doing his best to focus instead on moving across the ice underpaw. It had become more slippery all of a sudden… and the man could make out the towering shadows of something in the distance. Where… was he? It was then that things got a little brighter for a moment. At first Féli dismissed it… til it got continually brighter. His head turned skyward, brow furrowed as he saw lights shooting across his limited vision. “...shooting stars?” The man rumbled inquisitively. Now there was a sight he hadn’t seen in some time. ""

Things were changing in her life. She knew that. She could see it. Feel it in her heart. Though she knew Dragon wanted to return them to where they belonged, she felt that in his heart, alphaship wouldn't be the same. She knew her son had been determined to do it, but he had been waning. It had been nearly a year since the challenge for Talis, and she felt that he was losing his determination. The only logical thing she could think of that prevented him from moving forward was his blindness and the doubt that others would have in his ability to lead again. She hadn't spoken to him about what he wished to do, and all she was doing was waiting around. So she took a walk that night, leaving her companion to sleep in the tree above her den while she slipped out.

Avalon hadn't been out this way for some time, but it did well to clear her head. The cold night air invigorated the aging woman's senses, and although it wasn't the easiest terrain to walk in, especially at her age, it didn't stop her from continuing on. Bursts of mist sprang from her with each exhale and she was lucky that her coat was so thick. She was sure that if her coat was as thin as Gryphon's, she would have a hard time coming out so late in this. In fact, she was sure that if she had shorter fur, she wouldn't even be in the North, let alone taking a nighttime walk in the snow. But here she was, alone in the cold.

At least, she was. A figure not far off from her had made an appearance, and she vaguely recognized his form. She somewhat recalled her first meeting with this man, and though she couldn't remember much about their encounter, she at least knew he wasn't hostile. She decided to approach him, trudging through the snow until she was close enough to hear him. Indeed, she had seen the stars flitting across the sky and it was a fascinating sight. "Beautiful, aren't they?" She stopped a few feet from him, a warm smile on her lips. "Hello again, stranger." She greeted with a hint of amusement.

The voice of a stranger, yet, not a stranger, reached the old man’s ears and Félicien turned his attention towards her now. As pretty as the stars were, from what he could see of them, the man was more interested in interacting with this female he’d met once before. He hadn’t given her his name that time, nor she hers, but that was alright. At the very least they knew the other wasn’t hostile. “Hello again, Mademoiselle.” The French man in a gentle tone. “The stars are beautiful, yes.” The man didn’t glance skyward again, however. “It’d be more pleasant if I could see them better, however. Curse of old age I guess.” The man gave shook his head, a small smile remaining upon his face. “Have you been faring well since our last encounter?” He asked, canting his head to the side. ""