“I’m being dispatched again,” Ajax’s voice was barely audible over the howling wind, as he reached out to brush fallen snowflakes from his companion’s rosy cheeks, “Next week.”

Whether or not he’s aware of the momentary warmth shared between them through the gesture, his touch lingered a beat longer than necessary,

“…Don’t know when I’ll be back.”

This news wasn’t surprising in the slightest. Ever since childhood, Ajax had lived only for his emotions, like a flag obedient solely to the breeze.

Now, the only difference was that he wielded weapons of war, instead of a wooden sword for play-pretend.

The two young people sat opposite one another, bundled in furs that warded off the Snezhnayan winter; their knees knocked together with the subtlest of movements of the rowing boat, as the vessel bobbed and swayed amidst icy rapids.

“Look out for Teucer and Tonia for me?” Ajax flashed his friend a weak smile, before glancing down at the fishing rod he held loosely in his right hand, “I know it’s a huge ask, making you wait again—”