[SEASONAL THREAD] Keep the Fire Alive

Isla's sled had been abandoned and tied to a tree where the snow ended and the uneven ground of the Woodland began, the medic stepping deep into the darkness to search for fallen branches that she might try to dry out before LongNight. Her aversion to fire had grown, she had found, since her ascension, but as little as she needed light to see in the darkness, there were plenty of others who did. And in an Infirmary, light and warmth were utterly necessary, especially in the colder months like this. So she gathered the wood together and moved to stack it in the sled, having to break some of the branches to get them to fit properly. It wasn't difficult work, though she might risk giving someone a start if they should catch her, given that she was working without a light and her movements were unnaturally swift in the shadows. Isla the flesh is weak

stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires

He felt like he was late in his preparations, and it was not a feeling he enjoyed. It had taken him so long to get started on sound-proofing the house and just.. checking everything. Long Night was approaching rapidly and it felt so unreal, somehow, as if the arrival of the Outlanders should've disrupted the natural order of things: as if the lackadaisical attitude of some of them could stall the monsters.

But that wasn't how things went. Rory licked his lips and hitched Talys to a sled, Ludo's lantern hanging from the front of it, shedding its pale and steady light. He didn't trust the lantern one bit, but so far, it was proving an exemplary light source and allowed him to save his candles until he might actually need them.

The darkness was regrettable but this deep into the season it was difficult to get everything done during the short days. Today's light had been spent repairing fencing, so it was with Ludo's lantern as his only light that he took the black pony into the forest.

He walked along a path for a while, knowing there was a section of forest that was decent for time-efficient fire fuel scavenging. He had a logger's axe on the sled's floor to speed up things a little more, but as it was, he was looking at a significant work-out.

The pale light from his lantern caught on something; a shadow that did not match the forest. Frowning, wary, Rory looked closer, seeing that it was.. a sled? Loaded with firewood? Guiding Talys to a stop he got off the sled and grabbed the lantern, inspecting it closer. Footsteps, small, likely a woman's, were visible in the snow. But.. He hooded the lantern's light. There was no other light visible in the forest.

Who was out here without a light?

Monsters and Ascended. One and the same.

Or someone who had had an accident. Against his better judgment, Rory tied Talys to a tree, and stepped a couple of yards off the path, deeper into the forest. He was loathe to leave his pony unattended but with his sister off gods-know-where, growing her own life separate from his, he was alone in his duties. "Hello? Is anyone there?" he called into the dark, senses straining to catch any sounds that were not those of the forest.

Isla straightened up as a voice - vaguely familiar, she was sure - rang out through the night, and the healer turned towards the noise with a stack of suitable kindling cradled in the crook of one of her arms. "Hello?" she called back into the dark, just about able to discern a glimmer of a lantern before its owner dimmed the light. Still, at least that made it pretty clear that it wasn't a monster - probably. She'd heard tales of the god that sometimes walked these woods (floated, rather), and she'd much rather not have anything to do with it right now. Still, she walked towards where she thought she'd seen the light source, thinking it better to call out again lest she frighten the person who was there. "I am just collecting firewood!" she informed them. "I think you may have come upon my sled. I'm not lost, and there is plenty here if you're looking as well." Isla the flesh is weak

stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires

Why yes Rory, great fucking plan: if someone is lying unconscious among the trees and roots, they're definitely going to respond to you! The blond man sighed and stepped further into the darkness, waiting for his eyes to adjust rather than bring out the lantern again. For some reason, he had always preferred his own natural eyesight when out in the forest, no matter how lacking it was compared to an Ascended's. Having a lantern was great if he needed to figure out what exactly something was, but once his eyes had adapted to the complete dark, he found he got by rather splendidly. And besides, the snow made everything lighter. So who was he to judge her for not having a light?

But it turned out that his shitty plan wasn't so shitty in this case. A voice called back from the darkness, and Rory paused where he was, senses straining. Yes, someone was definitely moving out there: snow crunched and vegetation, mostly branches, was being rustled by the passage of someone coming closer. Rory remained where he was, figuring that was better than the two of them fumbling around, looking for the other.

Soon enough he could make out the dark shape moving between the trees. It was shorter than him, and as she called out again, her voice betrayed her as definitely being a woman. "I did," he confirmed, moving closer to reveal his own location, and to be able to better get a look at his mystery firewood collector.

It was Isla. Or was it Isla? It looked like Isla, it sounded like Isla, but also, not—the one time he'd spoken with her, in these very woods, she had been new to this land, uncertain, and while she had been comfortable enough with walking straight out into an unknown forest, there had still been something .. soft? .. about her. This rendition of her was confident in a way the other hadn't been. "Isla?" he said in surprise, studying her face in the dark. Then, a crooked smile spread over his face. "Fancy meeting you out here again. It seems we're here for the same purpose."

As the voice continued to speak Isla recognised it further, her brows knotted into a curious frown as she tried to decipher how she knew this person. But as they drew close to one another, her eyes cutting easily through the shadows, she recognised Rory and straightened up, a grin flashing across her face. "Yes," she said with a bright nod. "We are? Well, Rory - it would be wrong of me not to share after I just told you there was so much here to collect. Let's get as much as we can." Beckoning him further, she turned back towards the deadfall of branches that would make suitable kindling. "How are you? It feels like it has been years since I first met you out here, you know. It's hard to believe it has only been... well, a few months if that, right?" Isla the flesh is weak

stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires

Yes, this Isla was definitely different: it was like she had settled into her body in a new way, without really looking any different. It was in the little things, her posture, her demeanor.. her face still so refined and well-sculpted, but in the dark she looked fierce. He knew a couple of crude people who would make crude observations based on this change, and how she seemed more confident within her own flesh, but he was neither that crude nor knew her well enough to joke about such things. In fact, she looked like she could eat him for it, if he did.

"That's a good idea," he agreed, stepping after her and deeper into the forest—probably one of the few times following a relative stranger in the dark was a good idea, he thought with an amused little snort. "If you want to bring more firewood than your sled can hold, I don't mind driving the pony into town."

And it felt like years to Rory too: years in which he had been dragged through the dirt, forced onto his knees, every inch of him scrutinized. No one had done such things, of course, but.. it was all there, in every question the Outlanders asked, in every judgment they laid on his land and his traditions. It didn't help that it happened at the same time as problems close to home.

"Mmh," he hummed in agreement from behind her. "A season or so. The time seems to have done you good, if I may say so. And I'm alright, a little tired, truth to be told. It's a busy time preparing the homestead for Long Night." He turned some branches away from his face, listening to them snap back in the dark as he let them go again. "And you, how are you doing?"

"That's very kind of you, Rory. I'll see how lucky I get with the sled." She smiled over her shoulder to him, not wanting to inconvenience him even if he had been the one to offer. It was dark and the snow was deep, and the sooner the both of them got home, the better. Her smile grew softer at the mention of the changes in her, Isla inclining her head in agreement and pausing amongst a thicket of trees where the wood was abundant. "I have learned much of this place since I arrived. I feel as though I'm a lot more... part of it, I suppose you could say," she murmured, leaning down to gather up some branches and shooting him a playfully chastising glance. "Be careful, you wouldn't want to burn out and end up having to see me when there's preparations to be made," she joked. As for how she was doing... oh, same old same old. Partially ecstatic, partially driven to madness. The usual. "Very well, thank you," she said. "The infirmary is coming along well, and I have a lot more tools and supplies than before. It feels good to be able to make a difference." Isla the flesh is weak

stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires

He wasn't going to force his help on her; he'd offered, and he meant it, the rest was up to her. He didn't doubt that she'd be fine on her own. "Alright," he said, and there wasn't any more to it than that: no relief, no disappointment. Then she had gone where she meant to, and Rory could see why. It was the kind of place he'd been meaning to find, knowing there were several in the area, but having her to guide him had saved him the problem of stumbling around in the dark.

So he sidled past her and began to pick up suitable forest-debris, too. "That seems like a good thing," he said, thinking about Remi and the questions about getting away, getting out: did Remi feel more part of it, too? Would Isla be content if the rest of her life played out here, in their cage? But it wasn't really the time to be asking.

Instead he laughed, lightly, gently, stacking the branches beneath one arm. "No, that would be unfortunate and a setback," he agreed. And truth to be told, he didn't feel like he was burning out, more like he was .. grieving, and in a way, he was. He was losing the last bits of the life he'd had, the life he'd grown up with. Change came for you sooner or later, but this one came hard.

"You're probably a blessing to this place," he said brightly. Rory rarely got sick, and if he hurt himself, it was usually just bloody, but minor. Nothing that required a healer's expertise, so his experience with them was rather limited. "I bet there's loads of treatments and things you know that no one in here knew." Not only because they were in a backwater bubble.. Rory sighed softly in the dark, rubbing the back of a hand across his forehead, before resuming his foraging.

"Isla, do.. would you.. would you say that you're happy here?"

He asked it gently, tentatively; a thing he feared, a thing he wanted to know, a thing that threatened to sit like rubble and block his mouth unless he put it into the air between them.

So he did, and then he held his breath, waiting.