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As a moth to the flame, the wandering male approached the beacon of light in the vast distance. Curiosity, again, guided his direction, and chance had it be her; his long lost half-sibling. Those strange, flawed blue of hers had watered last time he had laid eyes on them. She had believed him to be the cruel part of a scam, apparently, though she had wrongly judged a mere messenger. But it would be wrong of him to press forth a truth that little Eclipse did not wish to know. It should be her choice to find and accept the unclouded truth, not his. She was likely aware of his approach, for though he was cloaked by the shadow of night, his calm, slowly approaching footsteps cracked gently as he broke untouched snow on his way to her fire. The dancing flames would fend off lesser predators and offered warmth that was necessary for those not suited for Canada’s white winters, but it drew larger predators such as himself. But he didn’t wish to play that role tonight.
Empty eyes reflected her merry fire once he was close enough; though he left the dancing light remain between the two of them. She had no reasons for trusting him, and he understood and accepted this. He knew it wasn’t likely that she appreciated him here, but all she had to do was to tell him to go away. Nostrils flared, involuntary, at the appetizing aroma of roasting meat. Itachi preferred his meals rare and simple, but the majority of Salsola seemed to enjoy more sophisticated meals than he. It was a strange pack, though as long as his voiceless muse dwelled with its population, there was no other place he’d rather be. Hadn’t he been such a controlled specimen, the thought of this would have granted a smile to still lips. Through the long, dark locks that fell into his stony face, he moved his gaze from the roasting meal and over to his half-sibling. She knew nothing, little Eclipse. A young woman now sat where he would have expected a child. Much time had passed since he had seen her away, weeping.
Not a word was offered in greeting; he would allow her to do the honours. He didn’t except her to discover that it was the blonde boy with the mean words, but it was fortunate for her that it was he and not a less friendly Salsolan that had come to share her fire. Salsola lusted for more slaves to add to their ranks, and such a young, inexperienced soul as hers would seem an easy mind to corrupt and forge to their liking.
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