Shirisha slept in just a little, for this was the first time she felt physically comfortable since leaving her dense, warm pelts at home. The sunlight that bled through the trees above stirred her a little, and she caught a glimpse of Sang sharpening his dagger atop the boulder before she fell back asleep.

She arose fully just under an hour later. Sang slid silently off the boulder, his expression unchanged. "Follow quickly," he said, "We must make haste for lost time."

Fully rested, Shirisha was quite ready to go faster. In fact, today she was determined to prove to Sang that she was capable of keeping up with his pace, maybe even pushing him to pick up his own. She still felt a twinge of melancholy however, as she looked back on that place. A beautiful, tiny haven that would inevitably be swallowed by winter in a few days' time.

They held brisk speed for nearly seven hours as snow started to weigh down the leaves around them, Shirisha making good on her silent promise. Sang stopped fewer times to align the two with the trail, and when he did it was only a quick glance of confirmation before striding off again. After only a few of these occurrences, it clicked in Shirisha's mind that exactly what he had predicted was coming to reality: The tracks were becoming more apparent and easier to follow, which in turn, meant that they were gaining. She felt a strong glimmer of hope shine through the worry of her mind, which despite her tired legs she felt gave her enough energy to want to continue the chase all the way through the next morning.

She felt also that the earth was becoming softer, and that roots and brambles were being replaced by lush graces as they left the forest. With the trees spreading, the canopy began to break as well, finally giving Shirisha a clear view of the sky and their surroundings. It appeared that during their arduous forest journey they had passed along the foot of a couple more mountains, and to Shirisha's surprise, slowly bending around and away from one leaving the range altogether. It seemed in her excitement and focus she had not noticed the fact that they were gradually turning to the side for over an hour.

They slowed down some as they continued together, absorbing the new scenery which by the guarded look of his face Sang had also never experienced. The last trees finally disappeared behind them as they became surrounded by the vast, white-coated field, and Shirisha was met with a strange feeling, a feeling that she was in a new world. All her life she had only known the mountains, the valley that separated them, and the river that ran through it, and that was all she thought it would ever be. But here she was, on the other side of the river, on the other side of the valley, and now beyond the opposing mountains.

It had been only a few minutes walking through the field and they were met with a large, slow rising hill, covered in a film of snow. This in itself took several minutes more just to reach the top because of its gradual sloping mass, but once they were there Shirisha saw something so extraordinarily beautiful, for a fleeting moment her mind was devoid of Abhinatha.

There was a still pool of water, but one so massive and expansive that it could hardly be called a pool, the bottom invisible to their eyes beneath a thick layer of darkness. The top glimmered with the reflection of the silver sky and the yellow rays of the sun, lapping lazily onto its shores which were a thin strip of coarse sand. Shirisha noticed the branch of the river feeding into it from the direction they had come, eyes wide the whole time as she took it all in, Sang's serious expression unchanged. Bordering the lake were great rolling hills not unlike the one they stood on now, resembling massive green waves frozen in time, peaks foaming with clusters of trees extending all the way into the horizon.

Excited, Shirisha ran down the slope to the shore, washing her hands through the cold, black water. Indeed, she had seen the river at its greatest width, and little ponds that formed after a long rainfall, but nothing could even closely compare to something with such breadth. Her knees hurt a little as she pressed them into the rough sand, leaning over and straining her eyes for anything beneath the surface, to no avail. She turned and looked back. Sang was still at the top of the hill, examining the land that lay ahead. Probably looking for the most efficient route she thought, no doubt already thinking about what direction the tracks are most likely to go. As she turned again to soak in her surroundings, she wondered if Sang actually saw beauty in the natural world. No matter what roaring, shimmering, imposing, or ethereal thing they came across, it seemed to her that in his mind it was just another obstacle. She, and everyone else besides Sang, always stopped in awe at the new things they encountered on their journey, appreciating the tremendous beauty in the world they lived in.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted when she heard a sharp inhale from behind, and she whipped around. Sang was staring off in the direction of the river mouth, eyes full of intensity, but it was not anger. She followed his gaze to something that gave her a wave of relief, and then brutal, crushing sadness.

On the opposite side of the lake, a herd of nilgai emerged into view. There were a few dozen, not a very large herd but a stable one nonetheless. It cured the uncertain, nagging worry that developed all those months ago, when she knew not if the herd would be able to recover from what the merciless hunting had done to destroy it. However, whatever joy that came from seeing them alive was immediately crushed by the realization of where they were going, the same direction as Shirisha and Sang themselves: away from their home. Far away, perpendicular to where the sun rises and sets, because of the swift return of winter driving them back out of the mountains just as they began to come back. Shirisha realized this was the herd the juvenile was trying to re join before meeting an early death, meaning their group missed seeing the herd again by mere hours. They trotted alongside each other, surrounding their young, and Shirisha noticed their slightly hurried pace. She thought of how the nilgai typically migrated away for winter, long before it became icy cold, and realized today was as cold as it had ever been since Abhinatha's fall. The snow fell in diligent waves that would only grow stronger.

In complete silence they watched the nilgai continue their procession, for minutes on end until the last one disappeared behind a hill. The silence hung in the air as they were still, before Shirisha stood up and turned, beginning her climb back up the hill. Sang was sitting with his head turned away, and Shirisha could see the last shreds of emotion resolving themselves in his eyes. Those same eyes caught Shirisha, and he tensed, standing back up hurriedly.

A spark flashed in Shirisha's mind. He was off his guard, oblivious to the world around him even if for just a few moments. This was the first time she had ever seen him not ready for something, without the focused look on his face that said he had a goal to carry out, like when she pestered him time and time again about the nilgai hunting. He was vulnerable. Though his face was quickly regaining its former steeled demeanor, he knew what Shirisha had and seen did not make eye contact, a familiar irked look on his face as he braced for questions.

Shirisha knew what he was expecting: more questioning and chastising of his actions reinforced with an extra passion by what they had just seen, leading into the continuation of her spout of anger in the forest or in any other order. A small part of her wanted to, but something in her instincts and her heart warmed when seeing the vulnerability in his face, and went down a completely different path.

"What was your father like, Sang?" she said with genuine curiosity.

His eyebrows raised. "You have asked this before."

"No. I have asked you about what happened that night quite a lot, even too much. But right now, I'm just asking you who he was before that. I was far too young to really know him when... it happened."

He stared blankly, but then it seemed something began to unfold in his mind, and the edges of a small, warm smile tugged at his mouth. A real smile, the first Shirisha had ever seen on his face. He gazed at the shimmering lake, and spoke with intention, with just the slightest hint of longing sneaking into his voice: "He was, and still is, the most admirable man I know. He was as strong as one could be, I have no doubt about that, but what set him apart from the rest was... his power of control. He was able to have such precise control over all his actions, and not just hunting. All things. He spoke with precision, he helped people with precision, and even felt and loved with control over himself."

Shirisha took a moment, shocked at the weight of the words, and then spoke her own mind. "Both of my parents have always been there for me, and It was never until I got older that I realized it is a lucky thing to have. They admitted their faults and tried their best all my life, and though none other than myself will see them as more than ordinary, it is because of that they are beyond invaluable to me. Although, with the way you describe him it seems as if he has no faults to criticise."

He frowned slightly. "I would not say that. Whether or not it was the reserving of his own control that birthed my bumbling stupidity as a child, I do not know. But it was not an accident the way he was looked upon by the village, and I know every last piece of respect his people had for him was earned genuinely and honorably."

She responded, stammering a little. "I-I am sorry Sang, I never realized how much he still meant to you. I know sometimes they are painful things, but just know that things happen in the world beyond what we ourselves can control." Her tone saddened. "I have spent many joy-filled days of my life playing with the children of the village, but I have also seen days where those same children slowly lose their lives to the cold, claimed by the winter. I found eventually that the greatest healer is to move forward."

Sang scoffed.

"I would not deny the power we have in ourselves to change things Shirisha, even if that denial makes one feel better." Shirisha opened her mouth to interject, but then his voice calmed some again. "But I understand the world is always shifting, and nature protects nothing. And though we may never know when it shifts, we can always control how we respond. You are right about that. Though, even that ability is sometimes a burden."

He let the words sink in, his eyes becoming foggy. After a moment he shook the clouds from his mind, and with his usual tenacity and stature walked past her.

"You are wiser than I took you for, Shirisha." he said, still walking, "Come now. We have dwindled here for far too long."

He set off with a strong, sudden pace down the hill, and Shirisha followed. Her spirits indeed rode high, but something was different about them now. She realized she had been so infatuated with questioning him, trying to stitch the wounds herself, that she had never considered letting him just speak about something he loved, as a human, encouraging the possibility of the wounds closing themselves.