Submission (#1713) Approved

[ 1245 words ]

Two weeks stretched long for anyone wandering along an annual parade of fauna, even more so when the journey was fueled only by memories steeped in sepia tones. Yet Sterling persevered, guided by the echoes of many winters ago when he hadn't been alone in his trek alongside the Torodons. The creaking and resounding snap of heavy sheets of ice breaking under the great beasts’ weight pulled him out of his reverie. He blinked, consciousness re-tethering itself to the present. A jutting form in the periphery led his gaze to the side, and his ears perked as he recognized the first war-torn pillars of the Frozen Ruins. Within another week, they would cross the fjords towards their resting grounds for the remainder of the season.

With an easy hop, he detoured along the higher alcoves of the ruins, crumbling arches casting rounded beams of winter sunlight across Sterling’s loping form. Each hallway grew more complete as he approached the heart of the ramshackle hub, patches of polished marble offering glimpses into its formal glory. The scent of smoke and sounds of merriment slowly permeated the snow-crisp air against the backdrop of the lumbering trundle of the Torodon. His snout rose briefly with a sniff, and his stomach growled loudly as he took in the savoury aroma of cooking. He hurried forward, greeting fellow kebs in passing as he made his way to the nearest bonfire.

Flames licked at the massive iron braziers cradling each pyre, and Sterling hissed appreciatively as the warm glow thawed his paws and warmed his pelt. Kebs from all over sat in a circle around each bonfire, blankets strewn and shared across the stone floors of the once-abandoned temple. The sight of easy camaraderie between strangers lifted his spirits. He turned to find a meal for himself, only to run into a wall of fluff, making him stumble momentarily. A strong paw shot out and steadied him by the shoulder, its weight noticeably heavy even in the brief second it rested on his swaddled form. An old memory flickered to the surface, and Sterling’s head snapped up, eyes hopeful.

“Alright?” Unfamiliar eyes peered down at him, and as kind as they were, Sterling’s face flickered with the shadow of disappointment. He quickly brushed it aside with a sheepish smile.

“Yes, quite alright, sorry to run into you like that,” the jeweller apologised, taking a moment to look over the much larger keb. “I’d ask if you’re okay, but you’re built like a Torodon. I’d expect getting bumped into by me isn’t too grave a hazard.”

The stranger let out a bemused hum, and as his eyes crescented with mirth, Sterling noted the clouded pupil of one eye. Standing nearly two heads taller, the other keb was covered in dense plush fur. The cape that shielded his shoulder was much thinner than Sterling’s, and the way it was thoughtlessly rumpled to one side made him think it was more of an afterthought than necessary protection from the cold.
“Are you from around here?” Sterling ventured, then watched as the massive head shook from side to side.
“No, at least not this far north.” One paw extended toward Sterling “Orrin.”
“Sterling,” his gaze flicked down as he felt his entire paw engulfed in the other’s.

Orrin surveyed the crowd.
“Truth be told, it’s my first time here.”
“Not one for wildlife?”
“Not one for crowds,” he glanced down at Sterling briefly. “No offence. I was dragged here by someone, but that someone has conveniently disappeared,” Orrin groused, ears flattening against his fluffy head. Sterling, ever amicable, grinned wider.
“Why don’t I show you around instead then? Have you eaten?”
“No,” Orrin replied, though his tone hinted at contemplated refusal. Sterling was about to offer an out when the other keb continued, “…But I am quite lost in these temples. Would you mind? Showing me around, I mean.”
“But of course,” Sterling smiled, flicking his tail behind him as he began to lead the way. “I can’t say it holds a candle to the marm over in Newhaven, but the Ruins do have a mean elderberry ale.”
“Far be it from me to turn down ale,” Orrin’s ears flickered forward with interest. “Do you come every year?”
“I do,” Sterling nodded several steps ahead. The crowd grew denser as they neared the hub’s commonspace where several vendors clustered together, offering a variety of goods and services. Orrin’s shoulders visibly tensed as he carefully made his way through the masses, and Sterling did his best to offer a reassuring smile. “If you’d like to avoid the people, the Hibernation Plateau might be a good choice. You still get to see the Torodons, and not a lot of people make it that far north.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Orrin muttered, sidestepping a gaggle of kits that rushed past his feet in a bundle of giggles. He frowned. “Rather, I’ll make sure my rat-bastard of an acquaintance keeps that in mind, the next time he drags me anywhere.” Sterling couldn’t completely stifle his own laughter.

Within a few minutes, both Sterling and Orrin sat along a quieter wall of the hub in amicable silence. Steam rose from the lamb shank each had in their paws, and Orrin made a contented sound as he nipped the last succulent morsels off the bone. An empty tankard sat to his side, still fragrant with sweet elderberry.

“Tastes better after weeks of stale snow-damp rations,” he mumbled with an undercurrent of a purr like a pleased big cat. Sterling nodded in agreement.

“Hopefully, you find your friend again soon.”
“Doubt it,” Orrin replied, unconcerned as he picked his teeth with a claw. Sterling’s brows rose with surprise. “Don’t worry, he does it all the time. Runs off somewhere for whatever fickle fancy and whim that strikes him. Comes back days later, usually with a broken heart and snot running down his nose.”
“Oh,” Sterling said, not entirely sure how to respond. “He sounds…”
“Like an idiot?”
“Like a free spirit,” Sterling counter-offered, though his smile gave away a partial agreement. Orrin sighed with a shrug.
“I’ll just keep along the migration path. He’ll find me eventually.”

Sterling’s gaze lifted to the snow-dusted mountains along the horizon.
“Why not travel with me then?” He offered after a contemplative pause.

Truth be told, as friendly as Sterling was, he too preferred moments of solitude. The annual migration offered that to him in spades, and he typically savoured the three weeks of near-silence it afforded him. A part of him wanted to maintain that tradition - maintain that open space by his side. Just in case, a delusional part of him supplied. It’s been seven years, a more rational part countered. Maybe a change of pace and company would be good. Orrin seemed to pick up on the subtle hesitation, and he cocked his head to one side as he looked at Sterling.

“I really don’t mind travelling alone,” Orrin said after a while.
Sterling shrugged and replied, “I’m about the same, but it’s nice to have company sometimes.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” the smaller keb looked up with a smile. “Besides, I can show you a better vantage point when we do make to the Fjords - it’s a little off the path, but it’s worth the view, especially if it’s your first time seeing the migration.”
Orrin sat thoughtfully for a while, then nodded with a small smile.
“I’ll be under your care.”