heart-blind;

The air whispered as it blew past his face, tugging at his long, pale hair as it did so. He wasn't sure if it was soothing, or simply heart-breaking. Maybe a little bit of both. Now that he was caught out in the open, alone with it, he had nothing else to distract himself with. Ever since his return he'd been spiraling into some kind of madness, too frightened by the challenge he'd laid for himself to be able to face it down. Instead, he twisted himself into knots and tied up the sack of his emotions, smothered himself mentally just to keep calm—and sane. Always, always, something to keep him occupied, whether it be woe, the presence of another, traveling, or just being numb, apathetic.

But not now.
Now, it was only him and the sky, the murmur of the nearby brook and the touch of autumn sunlight—him, the sky, the world, and the wind. It was gentle, teasing only enough warmth from his thick coat, touching him with kindness.. and with bittersweet memories. His brother had left a hole in his heart, in his life, when he'd gone back north. How long had they known each other? What magic had he played on Mauja, to make him give his trust, the one thing he had always kept to himself, so readily? It wasn't only his impeccable timing in saving Mauja's life earlier that year; there had to be more to it.

Breathing out a heartfelt sigh Mauja closed his eyes, and let the wind stroke the tears from his lashes. Maybe it was because it wasn't only him trusting. Maybe it was because Sarazheha, the revered, isolated poor fool, had needed Mauja, just as Mauja needed him. Maybe it was because he'd seen the spark of life slowly go out again when they separated.

Maybe it was because all this time, he had needed someone to tell him that it was okay.

If only the yawning void within could span the actual distance between their hearts. Quietly he sighed again. He had to.. do things. Certain things. Before his time ran out completely, or his brother had the chance to visit again and find him in the same, sorry state. Blinking viciously Mauja tried to clear his eyes, but the emotion clung to his soul like a tick, refusing to let go. Somewhere in the blue sky above, Irma gave a hoarse cry; she agreed. She agreed that he needed to get off his ass and haul himself north, to find the ones that mattered the most to him.

To find Ophelia.
Soon, he promised, and began to walk south, telling them both he needed time to prepare, to come to terms with himself, life, the stars and whatever else he could blame his dallying on. He couldn't, for the life of him, have explained why it terrified him so much to go find them. He only knew that it did. Ignoring Irma's defeated reprimand he kept going, coming closer to a few, lonely elm trees out there on the vast meadow.