Prowling the edges of the moors on deft, agile paws Elias moved smoothly across the rocky ground. His form, silver-white against the comforting darkness, seemed to glide without faltering. The snow made him blend well, merging his pelt with the cloudy whiteness of the ground. As he moved, lithe and strong, his blank amber eyes scanned the periphery. They were like melted amber, dead and lifeless and even as they spied not a single hare or deer they didn’t react or show any of his feelings. There was no prey for him as it should be. The prey had retreated for the winter which left Elias freer to do things that weren’t of the hunting kind. At the moment, he was searching for herbs. Not ones that were of the friendly kind, no. But ones that were of the nefarious kind. In a land such as this the hunter would have thought that there were some poisonous plants. Deadly nightshade maybe or even some ergot lurking about on blades of grass somewhere from spring. But what he had found in the forest on the way here was fairly tame and sparse. Poison ivy and poison oak and small clusters of hemlock that had been spread out in a secluded area that he spotted in the heart of the forest. The hemlock had been promising but unfortunately, one he had already seen before. The grass had grown, though laden in the early free-fall of winter snow. Sinking his head low to the ground, he all but disappeared a mass of white moving among white. At points, the moonlight would shine on his silk-shorn fur making it shimmer silver slightly like cold steel and the moon itself. At points, it would glimmer grey-black. Leaping to another rock and standing atop it, he glanced around keen eyes scouring the area once more for tell-tale signs of leaves poking out from the snow or whatnot. For a moment he appeared almost harmless, his overall appearance helping give that impression. Well-groomed fur, thin and smooth and thicker, fuller in the winter. Features that were somehow effortlessly handsome. A pelt that had hues of lighter grey and black. Then one would see the eyes. Hollow, emotionless. Death-like.

Appearances only counted for so much. Elias wasn’t as kind as his appearance might have dictated. A voice caught his attention. It was faint, only a mere whisper but he had been trained well and his ears picked up most things, no matter how quiet. I miss you too mama…. A strange thing to say. He straightened, looking to the direction of the voice. It was an auburn-tawny brown fae with bright amber eyes. She was smiling up at the stars. Was she speaking to them? Perhaps seeing her deceased mother in them? If Elias had a heart he would’ve carried some kind of sympathy towards what her circumstances were. His own mother, or the closest thing he had to a mother, was departed and gone but he had buried his feelings with her death so as it was, he would only offer her silence. He didn’t care about the beliefs of others. Those were their own believe in. And as cruel as it was, death was nothing new. The idea of what comprised of solace and comfort on the other hand was dependent on the circumstances, temperaments and desires of the individual. To the fae it was clearly the stars. It was nothing he would involve himself in because he didn’t have the interest in doing so. He turned, starting to leave until he heard the howl reverberate through the air. A song. She was singing. It was the first song Elias had heard for over two years. Each note danced, proudly weaving and spinning in incandescent trebles and invisible lights. Did it reach into his dead, black heart? No. Objectively, it was beautiful in its own way. He could hear her elation and joy in every miniscule piece of music. And it when she reached a crescendo did his eyes spy a tiny, sagging green leaf rising from the snow near her paw. Fox-glove. Granted, it had withered away due to the harsh winter cold so it was useless now. But maybe some of it could still be salvaged. He stepped over to the nearest rock, limber legs sweeping through the air and down from the rock. He nodded to her and said, “If you would excuse me my lady….” He started to cut a petal off with a claw, carefully and steadily. Looking up at her, he said, “That was beautiful singing.”

He watched her come down from her perch, expression the same. Elias had said similar things before and it was stated in a way that was a matter-of-fact, a statement of objective truth. He saw no reason to be petty with compliments when they were truth and fact. This was no different. He wasn’t sure if he was starting a conversation as he wasn’t much of a talker and didn’t normally initiate such things. What he was doing was stating something that was true. That didn’t require much emotion. When she thanked him, he would have smiled but he couldn’t. It was so surreal to be thanked. He hadn’t been much expecting it. So he let his gaze linger on her a little longer, giving an imperceptible nod of his head before turning back to the plant. There was nothing he was here to achieve save for satisfying his macabre hobby as a part-time botanist of the darker kind. Elias didn’t at this current moment, wish for anything from her. His mind remained on the plant now that her song was finished, resuming his cutting of the petal while his ears kept open and alert. Cutting the petal off at the stem, it floated down to the snowy ground landing without a noise. He sat, reclining on his hunches while observing the petal. He could see the veins on the petals, transparent green lines against an even lighter shade of green. In his mind he was running through possible results and effects if the petal was congested and if he had seen it before. The effects would most likely be minor if anything, not enough to be fatal or severe. Of course, he could always test it but no wolf would choose to eat a plant over meat and furthermore, something that looked so sad and lifeless. The fae wasn’t suffering from any illnesses so he couldn’t offer it to her to see what it would cause either.

Lifting his eyes from the petal to meet hers, he let them linger upon hers before going to the skies idly and said with a slight lowering of his head in acknowledgement to her,“If you wish. I am nothing but a stranger from the cold seeking some medicine.” He straightened, “If you care for what I am, then you will probably find out if you come more often to the Moors. If it is a name you seek to call me by, it is Elias.” She was looking at him keenly, her attention on one particular part of his body which if he had to guess, were his affected eyes. Would she ask him why they were the way they were? Some disregarded it, the more curious couldn’t help but do so but he had explained. Hers were brighter, of course. Almost everyone that he met in his life had eyes that were brighter than his, even if they were the same shade of amber. That couldn’t be helped as his eyes were not normal by any means. The snake venom that had burned them had damaged them even after he had found a cure to restore his eye-sight. He could still see perfectly, miraculous as it was but they would never shine again. But whether she cared for something that didn’t concern her Elias didn’t know. She seemed unlike any of the other Erenyx wolves that he’d come across so far, except for the warrior he had met in the mountains. Her words weren’t biting or layered with double meanings and on first impression, she seemed relatively polite and free of any kind of trauma. Or that could also be a façade. He would have to wait and see but for now, he could say he had met someone who seemed not much at all like what Erenyx had reputed itself to be. The closest one to such a thing. Of her rank she wasn’t a hunter or warrior. That much he could gather. He asked returning his attention to the fae, “So what is a non-hunter doing in the hunting grounds?”

A healer by the name of Cliché. Elias locked those words into his mind, keeping it in his memory. Information, any useful information, was always kept note of. Especially names and ranks. Faces and appearances were definitely other things. It was a habit of sorts that he had picked up during his time alone and one that would be hard to kick completely. The petal, he decided, was ultimately useless for any kind of investigation at the moment. When winter had passed it would bloom back to health but now there was nothing to be gained from it. She could ingest it. Perhaps it would kill her. But he did not know because the plant was already almost dead from the cold. If it were healthy and vibrant, eating one of the leaves would cause certain death. And the petal too. But in this weather he simply did not know as he had never tricked anyone into eating it before. When the wind passed in one gust, it sent the petal flipping across the ground making tiny, thin dents in the snow. Cliché shivered. It was slight but noticeable to his discerning eyes. Her coat wasn’t too thick it seemed. Elias’ own coat was made for this weather. He was a winter-born pup, in every way. He thrived well in the season with a pelt that was extremely thick and dense, even naturally for a wolf in winter. His coat was the colour of bleak snow and crushed bone with smudges of charcoal. As silky and soft as it was and as handsome as he was, he was as unrelenting and unfeeling as the harsh coldness. And this extended to the way he approached things generally.

“No why would it? You are not a hunter. You are a non-hunter in the Hunting Moors so therefore I am asking you a question that might start a discussion. Nothing more, nothing less. I assure you, I have no reason to ridicule you if that is what you think I’m doing.” Elias replied. Listening to her, he followed her gaze up to the skies looking at the stars that she was speaking of. A canvas of millions upon millions of sparkling, winking white lights spread across a sheet of velvet bluish black. Silently, he agreed. When she spoke of being away from the others to remove herself from the fighting that came with mating, he paused. Perhaps there was something wrong with him or he simply wasn’t interested in pursuing any relationships or he was merely incapable of the thing. Perhaps he didn’t know what love was. He had never met a fae in all his life that had made his heart beat in that way. But he had seen mating season and all the violence and tension that had accompanied it. Harm was probable so to minimize those chances it made sense that she would seek a place of refuge away from it all here out of all places. Where there was hardly anyone here and she could find some solace in the beauty of the stars to escape the ugliness of the mating season and all it entailed. She probably had someone who she felt strongly for. But there was one question that arose to his mind as an after-thought. He said, “I’ve been here for less than half a month but rumour has it that our Alpha is not the kindest of souls. I can guess why you would prefer to be here instead of anywhere else. But would you care to explain what you mean exactly when you say your position?”