Sometimes he wonders, just how he gets talked into these things. Standing knee deep in snow on the bank of the Ume River while Luna furiously scribbles notes onto parchment.
Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, he muses. The search never ends.
As if suddenly aware of his thoughts, she pauses in her writings, looking over to him with an endearing smile as the wind whips her hair peaking from under the knit cap. Stepping toward him, snow crunching under her boots, her arms wrap around his waist without a word. Just silent assurance, she's glad he's here.
They haven't found any sort of evidence on the creatures the three short days they've been looking, her due diligence unable to pay dividends. But they look away, her belief in its existence enough to keep him trudging through the Swedish countryside, simply because she asks him to.
He wonders about that too. How she crawls into his heart and thoughts without ever trying. One look from her blue moon eyes and he's likely to believe everything she does. The riddle of her loving him, just as likely unsolvable as discovering the mythical creature she so desperately seeks.
Hands on her cheeks, reddened from the cold, he kisses one then the other, the blue black of her scarf brushing across his nose.
"You were deep in thought," she says dreamily. "I didn't mean to interrupt."
"It was about you," he replies, arms winding around her. "Fitting you'd be the one to interrupt it."
"Oh? That's nice."
The river flows behind them, snow beginning to fall, he squeezes a bit tighter.
"Am I mad?" He wonders aloud. "For being here?"
"As always," she replies. "You're just as sane as I am."
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Date: 2010-11-28 01:40 am (UTC)Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, he muses. The search never ends.
As if suddenly aware of his thoughts, she pauses in her writings, looking over to him with an endearing smile as the wind whips her hair peaking from under the knit cap. Stepping toward him, snow crunching under her boots, her arms wrap around his waist without a word. Just silent assurance, she's glad he's here.
They haven't found any sort of evidence on the creatures the three short days they've been looking, her due diligence unable to pay dividends. But they look away, her belief in its existence enough to keep him trudging through the Swedish countryside, simply because she asks him to.
He wonders about that too. How she crawls into his heart and thoughts without ever trying. One look from her blue moon eyes and he's likely to believe everything she does. The riddle of her loving him, just as likely unsolvable as discovering the mythical creature she so desperately seeks.
Hands on her cheeks, reddened from the cold, he kisses one then the other, the blue black of her scarf brushing across his nose.
"You were deep in thought," she says dreamily. "I didn't mean to interrupt."
"It was about you," he replies, arms winding around her. "Fitting you'd be the one to interrupt it."
"Oh? That's nice."
The river flows behind them, snow beginning to fall, he squeezes a bit tighter.
"Am I mad?" He wonders aloud. "For being here?"
"As always," she replies. "You're just as sane as I am."