Peter
the seasons are turning into goodbyes I can live through
Where Peter came from, snow never fell. Even in the seasons when it was bitterly cold, and the night lasted nearly twice as long as the day, the ground stayed stubbornly dry. So, despite the cold, which he normally hated, Peter braved the outdoors, again and again, enchanted by the snow. He is bundled in nearly every scarf he owns, a number that would easily supply a large family, but not much else.
The longer he is out, the most expensive inviting the forest seems to be, with the majority of it insulated by thick vegetation, even if the trees are all bare now. It is rare that he goes places with a particular purpose, and this is no different. He’s been in the greatwoods enough times to know that he’ll be spat out where the woods decide, so there’s no point in him worrying about it.
His path ends at a great red pool, a place he’s been before. His mind goes to the undine, her pain and recovery, and how beautiful she was. And, for a moment, he thinks he sees her, a feminine shape at the waters edge. The corners of his lips turn up, the beginnings of a smile, and he steps forward. It isn’t until the second step that he realizes he’s made a mistake. That is not the undine, that’s something... someone else.
At this point though, he’s made too much noise to be ignored, and his options are to freeze and stand awkwardly, waiting for her to turn, or to call out himself. ”H-Hello!” He calls, barely louder than the current. When he hears how quiet his own voice sounds, he wants to smack himself. The sounds of his stumbling forward wouldn’t have been heard, but his voice is now impossible to ignore.
