A regular sweeping patrol of the basin's heights was a common morning and nightly routine for the serpentine man. A lion standing guard over his pride, a shepherd watching his flock, Toulouse was always the one who stood alone on the frontier with no protection for his own hide.
It had provided many advantages, however; having such a vast landscape to patrol meant hunting became a regular daily activity. No longer would he have to creep away after days of starvation to a festering pond to crack the jaws of rabbits and foxes, for now, he could hunt bigger game and with the security that he was not being gazed upon by whispering herd-brothers or children to cry wolf.

It was as he returned to the centre of the basin from one of these patrol-turned-hunts, after clambering up one of the highest peaks to tower over their melting home, that he saw a rather familiar figure making her way down the hill from the arch.
How she had managed to find it bewildered him, though he knew it would be his head on the plate if she truly got through into the herd land without a stop.

His pace was quick and fleeting, pale hooves carrying him stealthily over the terrain as he ducked over snow and rock, between each monolithic pine until he found himself at the basin's floor. From now, his steps were all the more cautious.
Manon was someone he adored, and maybe, just maybe, he even loved her. His adoration and love and his trust were two separate things entirely - he knew that darling Manon Maryrose was not one to be trusted, just as she should know the same of him.
He approached from the south, his paces taking him through the trees until he took place behind a sentinel. She had stopped, waited, clearly assuming they were still active. how handy it was to be on the inside.
"Il est mort*" he whispered to her, finally stepping from the sentinels cover.

At first he wished to run to her, to embrace her, though soon came to him thoughts of intel rather than those fuelled by his heart. He stood still, coldly watching her in anticipation. Had she come here to curse him for leaving? To say her goodbyes forever? To be with him? These were things he could not anticipate, and he was one who could anticipate most.

Her words were a tease to him, as if she'd strung a rope around his jugular and attempted to wrench him toward her. It caused his fanged jaws to tighten, to grate against one another in what might only be described as agistation or the most mild put of fury. Manon was hypnotic, not just by a blessing from the gods but by birthright - she could enchant anyone with not even a stare or a smile. All you had to do was look upon one of her crystaline eyelashes, or trace your gaze once about her magnificent mottled pelt and you would find yourself totally ensnared.

She approached, and Toulouse only wished he had enough strength to back away from what he assumed would be an embrace, though he kept still and watched her with increasingly haunting eyes.
you look handsome in a crown of snow.
The faintest of smiles began to form upon his lips, the kind that very rarely made an appearance. He had certainly missed her. "You are seeing me in my natural habitat" He informed her, quickly glancing around the mountains. He hadn't told her much of T'det or Myrhh, mainly because it was most certainly a touchy subject, though it's wide ice-touched fields and great frost backed mountains were a place he missed greatly.

Witnessing her sigh, her denoting brow, Toulouse's own eyes furrowed partly with curiosity and also partly with anger. If they treated her badly in the slightest, withheld opportunities, or anything of the sort, heads would roll. "They are treating you well?" was his question. Another step was taken in her direction, his nose craning further backwards in an attempt to become closer to her but still, not allowing her devious touch. "They have to be..." He growled, though partially thinking out loud. Eyes of the sea switching from over her head to her own sight giver's once more. She must know what would happen if she reported any differently.

For a few moments he stood silently, his eyes falling almost completely closed, ignoring almost anything else she had to say. Toulouse just wished to hear her breath, smell her sweet scent of lilac, and know that she was here. You and I against the world.
"You and I against the world"