There lingers the soft air of a light sea breeze, thick with the tang of salt and the endless, rolling cadence of the waves; shattering against rocks, beating themselves in a frenzy upon the shore as shards of foam go scattering in a rush to join the ever shifting winds. I stand here for a time, lost in my thoughts as they go spilling out in all directions – caught in the middle of a veritable storm, with a thousand mismatched ideas swirling endlessly about me. To reach out – to snatch just one, to hold it just long enough for the impression to last – enough, maybe, to give some direction.
But there is something.. something missing – and as the sun's last light slips below the further horizon, I glance down to my feet and find the water has begun to freeze, each new wave building upon the one below, the entire stretch of pebbly beach now a wash of silver-white.
“Salt. It brings to mind the taste of tears, though I shed none now – neither for myself or for them...”
Nestor's words – spoken, as it were, to one standing directly in front of him – tumble suddenly from his mouth in little more than a whisper; he seems quite unaware of the fact that he has spoken, and only happens to shift a bit in his seat at Veti's arrival – perhaps her warmth encroaching on the chill air surrounding him enough to alert him to her presence. And though he does not speak, he does tilt his head a little to the side and glance in her direction; a smile of sorts is offered – if it could be seen as such, being no more than a little twitch in the upper corner of his lips. Yet his eyes are vague and distant, and had he any sympathy to offer it would be all but lost in the conflict of thought and emotion that has seemingly taken hold.
But his Demoness, it seems, has a little more to say – a few quiet words borne on her icy tone; she speaks from somewhere behind the Wherewolf's shoulder:
“Here's a dangerous one, Wolfgirl – and he neglected to mention... those he befriends see their lives cut short without fail. The cold you feel...” – and here she drops her voice, her invisble form perhaps bending over and whispering close into Veti's ear “extends far beyond what is merely real; a warning, I should say. But, of course, for your own good.” With that she is gone, leaving only the chilling touch of unseen fingertips against the woman's cheek. But the cold lingers still with her passing, dangling from the edge of her cryptic words.