Feiori sat with his legs curled to his chest, the toes of his boots hanging precariously over the edge of a particularly high cliff. He held his arms wrapped tightly around his knees, with his chin resting atop them. His cloak flapped open behind him, and he made no move to close it despite the cold. He watched his breath rise in a pillar of steam, imagining what the same action of simply exhaling in such weather would look like if he were a giant. He would overwhelm the clouds, take over the sky. He would create his own little world of mist and stay there until he died. He would go back to when things were normal and he wasnt concerned about whether or not he would be able to stomach what he had eaten, be it animal or plant. When he didn't have to force Alkaru to be around him.

The wolf whimpered beside him and forced itself closer to him, shaking. Feiori smiled and although his hand was numb and purple with cold he let go of his leg and buried his fingers into the wolfs fur. Half of him wanted to laugh at the wofls feeble, brief growling, half of him wanted to scream in frustration. Half of him wanted to curl up right now and die in the snow at least partcially happy, the other half wanted to punch a hole in something. Wanted someone to punch a hole in him.

The buzzing sick feeling his stomach had decided to take on from being practically pumped full of cheap alchohol, per usual, while empty of any form of sustance hadn't left. He had left his crudely set up camp because he hadn't wanted to throw up anywhere he might end up staying for the night. Recent experience had taught him that sick smell and sleeping didn't mix. As if he slept anymore. Feiori tried to remember the last time he had been able to keep his eyes shut for longer than ten minutes. It felt like weeks, the aching exhaustion had simply settled so far into his bones he hardly noticed it anymore.

He watched the sun sink peacefully, silent, until it was half covered by the mountian range. Brilliance framed by jagged sillouettes. Somehow, the scene felt fitting. Feiori yawned and fiddled with a piece of the wolfs fur, waiting for something to happen.

Musa ran through the tall trees. The rushed past her in a blur of color. She slowed in exhaustoin. She stopped and saw a man tourturing, as far as musa could tell a wolf. She watched carefully making sure not to make noise because of the twigs and dried up leaves on the ground of the moutian floor. She walked closer and closer to the man. She hid behind a tree and watched him patiently. Her eyes as green as the leaves on the trees.

She decided to do the only thing that came to mind she came out into the opened and put her hands on her hips. "What are you doing?"

Feiori turned his head slightly at the prickly, uncomfortable feeling on the back of his neck. The wolf didn't move, he figured from the cold, though he couldn't helpo but still feel jumpy. He hadn't had the energy to carry his weapon with him from the campsite. He directed a flat look over his shoulder, tightening his grip on Alkarus back rather anxiously. A skinny brown haired woman swam into the edge of his vision, and he rolled his eyes and turned away. He knew she was still looking at him, and he hunched his shoulders self consiously. He was too cold to make sure his hood was still up, not that he particularly cared by this point. In his mind the sun burned through the frozen landscape, setting fire to the trees and stone alike.

Exhaling irritatedly, he let go of the wolfs fur and wound the rope connecting them around his wrist a few more times. He felt as if his skin had died. "Thinking about maybe flinging myself off this precipice before I end up rotting behind a tavern I never wanted to go into to begin with?" He said softly, not turning around. Alkaru blinked sullenly, apparently having given up on attempting escape. Feiori tensed, suddenly afraid the woman would try to take him away again. He clung to the rope as if it were his life. In a way, he thought distractedly, it was.

"Listen, I don't know you, nor do I particularly like you in so far. What do you want so I can get you going on your merry little way again?"

Musa walked slowly in a circle arround him, from his attitude he looked drunk, well atleast he wasnt doing other things like an using his rope to pull her toward him or anything, he is more of the mellow drunk people she has had to deal with. She perked an eye brow and looked at him folding her arms. This could be fun. She thought to herself. She smiled and walked arround him more.
She walked arround him and got closser and closer soon they were only about an inch apart she smiled, their lips almost a centimeter away she smiled tilted her head and then slapped him across the face.

Feiori sat silently, stunned, his frozen skin burning. He clenched his eyes shut, grinning slightly. He listened to the chiming in his skull for a moment, dizzy. His stomach lurched, and he forced his throat closed. It did no good. The taste of bile and mead invaded his mouth and he swallowed hard. Still nothing. He clapped a hand over his mouth, and while roughly shoving her out of his path he felt something hot moving between his fingers. He let his hand free and spat the contents of his mouth over the edge. More followed, searing his throat and nostrils. He folding himself over, crosslegged with his forehead in snow. Trembling, he could feel his eyes leaking. He felt empty. He felt better.

Slowly, he scraped his hand against the ground, then prayed his sleeve was clean as he wiped his mouth. He couldn't stop shaking. Feeling completely sorry for himself he bundled his legs back up against his chest, hugged his knees and gripped the rope so hard his palm hurt. He thought he could feel his fingernail breaking the skin.

He didn't look at the woman, instead stared miserably at the miraculously still clean snow in front of him. "I'm sorry," He croaked, feeling more of the stuff clinging to the sides of his throat and clogging his nose. Alkaru stirred uncomfortably beside him, perhaps sympathetically.

Musa watched in discust. Wow this is the most discusting one, but deffinitly the least perverted. So she shrugged. She walked over to the shaking bundle of a person, his skin was cold to the touch, white like the snow arround him. She turned his chin up to her. She examined his face then put it back down. She sad oppistite side on the forest leaning up against a tree trunk watching him.

Feiori wanted to curl up so tight he disappeared. He tried to, and gave up, only hurting more. He wanted to cry. Why would that woman not leave him alone? He heard the snow crunching, felt her warmth. Her fingers lifted his chin and he felt like this woman could easily pick him up and toss him over the edge if she so wanted. He felt weak. He locked eyes with her briefly and wasn't surprised by the disgust he found there. He would have thought the same. She dropped his head and he let it fall back into his arms, savouring the stillness. He wanted the world the be like this, completely dark and quiet, if only for an hour or two. He wanted to make the world like that.

He listened to her lean gracefully against the trunk of a tree opposite him, and was glad she had at least moved that far away. Normally, he would have left the second she made herself known. Oddly, he didn't want her gone. He needed someone. Unable to stand the taste in his mouth and the burning, full feeling his nose still maintained, he considered going back to camp and breaking into the last couple bottles of whatever alchohol he had spent the last of his money on when he had passed through town. He wished she would speak.

Feiori lifted his head almost painfully slowly and rested his chin back on his arms, watching the last sliver of sun disappear behind the distant mountian peaks, casting a radiant glow across the entire sky. He wished he could make those colors.

"Why did you come over here?" He asked tiredly.

He seemed mentally and emotionaly unstable. "I dont know, to help I guess." Musa said shrugging, he seemed slightly entertaining so why not go? It would be fine. She had come across worse, he would be a snap, slightly sick, but a snap none the less. She stayed where she was on the cold snow. She put her head up against the bark of the tree, her dark brown hair darker than the tree trunk itself, yet still radiently brown. The sun shined through spaces of the tree canopy and landed on her face.

Feiori laughed bitterly, pressing his eyes against his forearm. The urge to go back to camp and resume drinking was almost overwhelming. Alkaru sat up and shook snow off his back, watching the woman warily. Feiori smiled into his cloak, wanting to ream the woman out and at the same time just run over and hug her. Though he knew if he were to get up, the nasuea would be worse. He decided not to move. Calmly, he turned his head sideways to look at her, watching the last of the suns rays play across her hair. Part of him envied the color. His own had gone from red, almost brown, to a ruddy, unhealthy color he preffered to not look at. He felt like his heart was beating too loudly, his blood was too hot. He though he was going to die. He pulled the hood down, exposing his ears. And he didn't care.

"No one ever really wants to help. It goes against human nature, helping. You wanted to see if I was alive, kill me if I was, and take whatever little I had on me." He spoke quietly, thinking more of the words than the tone. He needed to drink.

"Then, you would have killed the wolf and after disposing of my useless body you would of skinned him and worn his flesh. Thats normal to you people." He shut his eyes, not trusting his blurred vision. He felt like he was upside down, or spinning. Weightless.

"Option B, you convince me to let you stay the night in my camp because I have a fire and you 'lost your flint', and then when I fall asleep, if I fall asleep, you slit my neck from ear to ear and use the rest for your own perverted pleasure. Stop me when I guess what you really wanted."

Musa looked at him in shock, she would have never done any of those. "I wouldnt have done any of those smart one. If anything you would have used me for your perverted pleasure." Musa said. "Your the drunk one not me." She said rolling her eyes. She stood up and put her hands on her hips. Her hair shined in the light. She walked up to him ready to grill him if he said anymore stupid things. "And you will never guess I was going to try to help you get over this but now I'm not so sure." Musa said angrily. She played with a magical ball of light she had in her palm.

Feiori's hand jittered uneasily against his leg, a physical expression of his rising anziety. He needed to go finish those last few bottles. He needed to throw up his insides. He needed someone to carve his head open and rid him of whatever ill thing had taking over his mind and made it impossible for him to function. He wondered, briefly, if he would ever encounter a catalyst of sorts. Metaphysical or not. Something that would force him down a radically different path.

He smiled darkly against his arm, then tilted his head and opened one eye as he listened to her speak. She seemed rather opinionated, but then he hadn't really gotten much from her in the way of conversation in so far. He almost cut in then, wanting to ask her if she had any alchohol. His mind seethed, he bit his lip.

The trees shadows were beginning to stretch over them, a signal of the quickly on coming night. He realized he probably shouldn't have left his camp unattended for as long as he had, fire and all, but he didn't think he could muster the engery to stand just then let alone force his way through the low branches and thick foliage he had drunkenly plowed through previously.

Feeling suddenly nostalgic at the sight of the ball of light the woman was playing with, he closed his eye again. Alkaru stirred against him, and Feiori wondered if the wolf was still capable of remembering the people he could. "Who the hell are you anyway?" He croaked, trying to repress the urge to spew the remaining contents of his stomach across the mountianside again. "And why would you feel the need to help a complete stranger?"

A chill was sent down her spine when she saw his dark smile. She threw her light ball in the air and it got small as if becoming a star. She walked alittle closer to him unsure if it was a good idea or not. This man had obviously had way too much to drink. When she heard him pretty much say that he didnt need help she raised her eye brows. "Well you obviously do need help, I'm musa. And because your so out of it I'm not going to ask your name. Where is your camp?" Musa asked trying to help him up on his feet. He was much heavier than hur but it was worth a try. he looked like he was near death, or extremely ill and she couldnt let someone like that alonel

Feiori weakly put his arm over the womans shoulders, just so she would have an easier time with lifting him to his feet. The headrush was immediate, he felt like vomiting again. He gagged, leaning forward slightly with his eyes clenched and one hand over his mouth, breathing quickly through his mouth. He doubled over as best he could while still holding onto her when he couldn't hold it anymore. Miraculously, it missed her feet, and only dotted his. He panted as he tried to straighten. Alkaru barked and pulled against the rope, wanting to go his own way now that he sensed people moving someplace.

"I'm... Feiori..." He breathed. His throat was on fire.

Musa sighed and rolled her eyes. She also cut the rope to that darn wolf he was getting on her nerves, she couldnt pull him and the wolf all at the same time. But she kept him on her shoulders. She gathred strenght. "So lead me to you camp." She said unconfidently, she was hopeing he even knew where his camp still was. And if he didnt she would have to find it. "And when we get their, no more alchohol." She said ready for his probably very angry reply but from the looks of things it was a measure that must be taken.

Feiori watched her hand move towards the rope connecting him and Alkaru as if time had slowed. His breath caught in his throat, he knew what she was going to do. He wished he could have shoved her back fast enough to stop it. Alkaru took off at a surprised run almost immediately, and Feiori lurched after him with an anguished sound. His throat was too raw for screaming, but he knew he would be doing that anyway. The wolfs tail disappeared in the foliage, amongst the snow and shadows, and Feiori threw himself after. Branches caught at him, he barely made headway. Abruptly he found himself flat on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. He pounded his fist into the ground, scraping it raw and bringing blood with the force, and then did it again. He shrieked into the snow.

The world shook. Then, it could just have been him. He tried to force himself upwards, only to trip again over something buried. He would crawl. He would drag himself. He would free fall over the edge, the wind blocking out all if only for one fleeting moment, and then collision. Bones shatter, life force freed.

Still crying, he managed to sit up and hug his knees to his chest again, rocking back and forth. He didn't think he was breathing.

Musa looked at the blood from his hands dropping onto the pure white snow, she felt bad but she simply needed to let one of them go, she had to pick Fei. He rocked back and forth hugging his knees. She walked up to him and took a seat next to him. She whispered in his ear "He'll come back. I promise." She took his bloody hands and held them in her hands. "He will come back." She put his bloody, probably acheing hands on her legs, so the wounds would touch the soft fabric easing the pain. She ripped of the bloody fabric and wrapped his hands. "Get over it, your strong handle the pain." She said pulling him up on her shoulders again.