Another season was passing, and still he felt so carved out and hollow at times. Just as dangerously fragile as the girl of glass in the water. His winter was no longer wild and chaotic, involuntarily billowing around him. No startling gusts of cold and random flurries of snow answering after his torrential emotions. He wasn't sure when it had changed, hadn't even really noticed when it became only a glimmer of frost across his skin. Not a blizzard of inner turmoil and crashing sleet. Calm now, settled just outside his coat, a soft blanket of glittering powder. So empty inside, the emotions dulled. Almost fragile, like her.
But he was strong for her.
For all of them.
She stared down at her reflection, and he observed her from where he stood a distance off. His eyes stared bright and blue from a dark face, expressionless and watchful from the depths of shadows beneath their trees. She looked as dejected as he usually felt, usually tried to hide from her, and it hurt his heart. Had he made her this way? Had his deep depression bled into her? He tried to keep it all to himself. To be steady and strong for them as always. She always seemed to know, or sense, his true feelings though.
Maybe he'd failed her. All of them.
She turned to study herself from the side, her ice crystals catching the light just as the glass of her teal body did. He knew she liked them, his reminder that she was precious, and beautiful, and unique. And his. But today she wasn't pleased, wasn’t admiring them with that soft glow in her warm eyes. Today she was too different.
The need to comfort her, to reassure her, tugged and pulled at the doting father in him, and it was hard to ignore. Perhaps she needed to work this out on her own though, and he waited, watching over her as her smooth nose dipped to the water. She stroked a broad arch and the ripples shattered the sunlight, throwing fractured rays of her teal and rainbows all around. Couldn’t she see how beautiful she was? There was no other creature like her. Not a single one.
He detached from the shadows. If they were both going to be quieted today, they may as well do it together. The frost on his skin melted in the summer heat, immediately reforming again and leaving damp trails of arctic water slipping down his sides and legs. His eyes never left her small figure, glassy and gleaming in the baking sun, as he came forward. Thick redwoods were left behind, then a small expanse of meadow grasses and little pink flowers, until his feet were gently sinking into the soft bank of the little pond.
He slipped in, wading quietly to her with a watery whisper. His advance disturbed her reflections of color again and sent the water lapping softly at her sides. As he passed from her hip to shoulder, he drew his muzzle slowly across the diamonds of her spine, not quite touching. His breath was cooler than her sun-bathed glass and it cleared a haze of heat from her surface. The new, polished shine beneath lit something in his eyes. Something sharp, something alert. His nose drifted along her neck, across her fall of watery hair and to the crook of her little jaw.
”Polaris,” he said, a quiet, murmuring rumble. His cold breath chased the heat away and he lingered there, his lips barely against the cool glass of her skin as he slowly shifted his hips around so that he faced her. He nuzzled into the hollow between her cheek and mouth with a soft sigh, wishing he could make everything right for her, give her whatever it was that would make her truly happy. In the end, he said nothing more. He never really needed to with her. He only closed his sad eyes and pressed his forehead gently to hers, breathing slow and deep through an ache in his heart.
