Chapter Text
Steam leaves the parted and chapped lips of the child, dull gray looking up at the sunless sky of the tundra as the winter chill approaches towards meadowlark. Scanning the horizon, feeling the silence, and hearing the whistle of the wind…Yes, this is the place. “It’s perfect.” The dull eyed storyteller whispered and with one adjustment of the guitalele they carried, Cole sat on the cold but comfortable ground with fingers at the ready and a song in mind.
Silence was truly their muse and while the lark provided them with both a home and a constant supply of ideas and memory, nothing could replace a thoughtful silence where they could think, feel, listen to voices within them telling tales of old and recounting memories buried deep within its heart. The winter chill reminds them of a calling whistle, one Peregrine would often use to sound to woodland creatures willing to be beckoned to their calls or when Kingsley whistles for a gust of wind during the hottest of summer days.
…Summer, a whistling call? Perhaps a song about a warm summer breeze should ease the cold gripping at their bones. Satisfied with the quick affirmation, Cole huffs again, fingers at the ready and mind tapping into stories yet to be told. Their yellowish hair frames their face and brushes against their skin, their eyes focused on nothing and their ears only hear melody. In this state, Cole allows themselves to be carried by their creation and allow what has been buried to resurface.
They hum a melody as the strings are plucked to create an accompaniment, their voice carried by the winds whistling and hissing. Just as the words came to mind, as Cole began to sing.
A crunch of frozen grass breaks their trance and suddenly, the forest becomes larger than they thought it was. It gasps, their instrument clutched protectively to their chest as their eyes flit about. Another crunch to the left and the child is up on their feet, not bothering to dust off any clinging dirt to their trousers. ‘ Not a single soul should be in this desolate place.’ they think warily, ‘So how come, how come someone is here?’ The crunching of leaves became more apparent, the high grass rustling. Two ears pop from within the foliage followed by a gentle hop, a single hare steps into the clearing with little nose twitching and beady eyes cautiously following Cole. A small sigh leaves their lips as relief warms their body but their heart has yet to calm down.
“Knells, you've frightened me little one.” Cole says, kneeling down to offer their hand to the little critter. “Come here, I should bring you to Perrine—Ah!”
The strong hiss of wind rings near their ears, their hands quick to retract as the hard item is flung towards the hare’s head. The poor thing squeals as a projectile collides with its head, its body falling and twitching in pain, the weapon bounces and rolls towards Cole's boots. Shakingly picking it up, their eyes widened at the find, it was a glass marble.
Cole looks to the direction of the attack with a gasp and hears the heavy crunch of footsteps. Looking to the injured hare then to the approaching steps, they take a step back and in an instant their body twists and feet dig into the ground, running to the safety of the trees, away from searching eyes.
“Huh, I could've sworn I hit something.”
Behind a fallen tree stump, Cole struggles to keep silent all the while carrying the incapacitated hare in one arm while the other over their mouth that panted harshly. There were one set of steps, no two! One so light that it was hard to keep track of and the other so heavy that it's all they could hear. ‘ Who are these people, what are they doing on this side of the fields? Nothing grows here, nothing is abundant!’ Their thoughts are a mix of questions and wonder, the kick of the dirt brings them back to reality as the sound of frustration echoes in the air.
“Drats, I lost it!” Said the voice ,shrill and gregarious. “We would have had a hearty dinner tonight.”
“I told you not to waste your last bolt, Lux.” A deeper voice comes closer, heavy steps accompanying it. Cole's heart hammers in their chest, bringing the injured hare closer into their embrace. A sigh from the deep voice hangs in the air. “There's only a few hours of sunlight left and we're too far from base camp. Leave the hunt for another time.” Footsteps trudge and stop, clothes rustle against the ground. “We could have a fire going when we get back and I could smoke the fish we caught the other day…Lux, are you listening?”
“Hmn? Yes, I’m just…Finding my bolt.” Cole hears digging, hands going in the cold earth. A silence passes and the shrill voice, Lux, huffs finally finding their lost item. “By the Harkers, it's not here either!”
“I warned you.”
“Can it, Nox.” Lux bites back. “Let's just head home…I suppose I can track that hare down tomorrow.”
“Save your bolts this time around.”
“Yes, yes. I know.”
The footsteps would linger for a moment before it disappeared with the crunching grass. Cole lets out a sigh that turns into a pant, hand leaving its lips with relief knowing they were finally alone. They look at the hare tucked in their arm, its eyes closed but still very much alive. With what they had, the poor critter would not last the night without any help, ‘I need to get to the cottage. There should be something there that can help it.’ They think and get to their feet.
Cole’s blood runs cold, their breath knocked from their lungs. From the distance, one of two figures watches their every move. The mask of a sharp snouted hound stares Cole down and the other a bull, only looks at them with little interest. The hound mask wearing child smiles at them, toothy, sharp and white like a patient hunter on the prowl, they never take their eyes off the leveret. But soon, the stranger lets up and turns away as if they had not seen anything, Cole makes a run back to safety, to where the lark are, to their home.
They had been running for some time, lungs burning and mist steaming from the mouth. Cole couldn’t think of anything else but to run, to hide, to find safety from whatever was hunting it. ‘ Who was that? Who were they? What are they doing here?’
With an injured hare in hand, they attempt to jump a stump.
“Woah, look out!”
Two bodies collided with one another, wind knocked out of Cole. They fall onto their back, injured hare still safe in their arms. “Cole!” Peregrine’s voice rings out, the shadow of their moose mask lingers over their fallen friend. “Watch where you’re going, knells of the bell ringer! What’s gotten into you?” They are quick to pull Cole up and just as the annoyance comes, it leaves with the relaxing of their shoulders the moment their discerning gaze met with Cole’s disturbed expression and panting breath.
“Sit down.” Peregrine suddenly commands them and Cole settles onto the stump they had just tripped over, heart hammering and breathing normalizing.” The injured hare is passed into better hands. “What happened?” The eldest asks, brows furrow as they assess the animal's injury then looks over to Cole. Fingers wring together, the words struggling to leave their cold ridden mouth. Cole looks up to their friend. “There were people in the tundra.” They hunch over, the dog masks, their toothy smile resembling a hunting beast and the larger than normal companion who donned a bull mask. “They were hunting the hare I found and I tried to save it but they saw me a-and…” Looking over to the hare resting in Peregrine’s arms, the connection is clear. “I got scared.”
Cole closes its eyes, their worry bubbles and they can’t think. A hand combs over their locks are what ground them, even for a slight moment. Sighing, Cole takes their hand from their head and holds it tight against their face, a relief blooms in their chest when Peregrine's hold tightens ever so slightly in reassurance. “Come on.” Cole is helped up to their feet. “Let’s get back to the cottage and get you something warm.”