❆ à la folie.

The terrain shifted with the wind and it was with the disruption of the earth that Vanille roused from her slumber, a layer of snow dappling her long coat. Somewhere, someway, she'd shed the heavy weight atop her head—her tied antlers forgotten in the place of a new future. Or, it would seem, an old one.

Layered beneath the snow and intermingled with the heady scent of pine lay the remnants of her home, the taint of Philos ever-apparent despite how long she'd spent away. Lost, taken, Vanille wasn't privy to the details, simply thrown to and fro with the will to adapt wherever she wound up.

But much like her home, she had changed. Harsher, stronger, sharper, the sweet and tender medic that befell the dangers of winter had returned without the same desires. Her perseverance had strengthened and her love for hope had failed, fallen flat as she froze into the new home—the now old home.

She no longer cared enough to help others at the expense of herself, and instead found herself thrilled by the idea of exacting revenge, at the first thirst of a spar. She was different. Snow fell from her frame as she rose to her feet, lingering patches remaining as they intermingled with the frozen tufts of her fur.

Instead of exploring, the woman would opt to wait before intruding on her past, taking in the harsh slopes of the mountain with a careful gaze.

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Cassian woke with a start, his vision gradually transforming into a tangible reality. The Vale was no longer covered in fallen soldiers and enemies, but just fresh, untouched snow. The sounds of war fell into a gentle hum in the back of his mind, a constant reminder of the decisions he made in the past. His guilt rose like a wave, drenching the man in the memory of his choices and the ensuing casualties.

Cassian rose with a stretch, his jaw parting with a yawn. The man fell into an easy pace, his feet leading him on a path to trace out his routes throughout the Vale. The towering peaks reached up into the clouds, the sun caressing them as it rose into the sky. Cass loved watching the sunrise, the Vale silent and untouched. Nothing was around to disturb his morning, until an achingly familiar scent halted him in his tracks. No. It can't be.

But upon following it to its owner, Cassian knew he was wrong. “You.” Despite all of his dreams coming true through the manifestation of the one who haunts his waking thoughts, it felt as if his world was crashing in on itself. She was not supposed to be here. “Трахни меня.” — fuck me. A sense of anger and some unknown emotion forced its way up to his mind, killing his short-lived feelings of happiness. How dare she make her appearance here after all this time? Months of separation without a goodbye. Months of nothing and she comes back now of all times?

If she hadn't haunted his every dream, he would not have believed it was her. Something had changed about Vanille. She was not the same girl he remembered. Something had died within her and it showed through her viridescent eyes. His own eyes remained hard as he kept his distance from her, despite everything in him screaming to pull her close and never let her go again.

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I'm ready for the pain fest ; skill: outrider

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The sunrises were different. Though not in sight or sound, the silence ever-prevailing, but in smell and feeling. She'd enjoyed them once upon a time, scraping herself raw to reach the highest point if only so that she could catch a glimpse of the mountain's wake. The echoes of light and deep giggles resounded within her mind—faint and strained. A different life, a different reality. A better one, she couldn't be sure, but one distant and intangible all the same.

As if on cue, her childhood slithered across the snow, biting at her ankles and making everything so significantly colder. They'd known each other since birth, the solace to each other's chaos, and it was only now that she'd begun to realize how truly little he knew of her. Cassian Vasiliev. Ian. Her gaze was hollow when it settled on him, every memory spent falling so simply into the snow around them.

"Ian." He hadn't changed, certainly not in all the time she'd been away. Perhaps he looked sadder, empty in a way she was unused to, but it was no mere days she was gone. And she'd changed—it was no surprise he did too.

Her gaze turned back to the mountains, her frame unmoving even despite his presence being every wind bound to pull her to her knees. "Nothing has changed." She remarked lightly. "I don't know why I expected it to."

Perhaps she'd wished, in all the time she'd spent gone, that something could've changed alongside her. That even with her absence—one she had no choice in—everything didn't remain the same. That she was as much as the glue as Ian was.

"You look older." Tired. What happened to him?

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Everything felt that much colder seeing her here in the flesh. Vanille. The one who haunted his every waking moment, was now here before him. Every dream, every thought was now fulfilled in seeing her. But something in him burned, raged at the fact she showed almost no emotion. She looked like a shell of her former self, and that beast within him smiled at the sight. “Боги, должно быть, находят это забавным.” — The Gods must find this funny. Cass muttered to himself, his eyes narrowing into slivers of ice.

His gaze turned colder than the air around them, his restraint dwindling by the moment. Ian. It had been a long time since anyone had called him that. Hell, it may have been her. And yet she said it so casually, as if nothing had ever happened between them. A brief memory flashed in his mind, her smile was more radiant than the sun that day. Cass could remember the way his heart fluttered in his chest as he looked at her in awe.
“Vanille.” He wouldn't greet her the way he wanted to.

He scoffed as he looked at the woman. “Is that all you have to say?” Cassian turned to look out at the endless white. “What? Did you expect it to mourn your loss?” A short laugh erupted from him as he swung his head back to look at her. “I look older?” He stepped closer, head lowering beside her ear. To a stranger, it may have looked almost sweet. But if they had heard his words, they'd know the truth. “Well, you look like someone I once knew. Sadly, she's dead.” His words dripped with pure venom and as Cassian stepped back, an expression of cold indifference remained on his face. The Vanille he once knew was gone, dead. Just like every memory he once cherished.

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