Title: Wanderers
Rating: PG
Theme: Chance Encounter
Pairings/Characters: Kunsel and Adrian (also known as 'Katana' from Before Crisis)
Word Count: 6,034
Summary: Once you've been friends with Zack, you'll never be able to forget him. It takes one meeting, just one, and you're changed forever. How strange, that there could be someone else in this world who can seem…so much like him in appearance, in origins, and yet be so separate. Is there more to this other Gongagan man than there seems? And what ties does he have to a swordsman who no longer walks upon this planet?
Time Period: Post Crisis Core, potentially during FFVII
Warnings: Who's afraid of shounen-ai? Man. I should write more of this cuteness. X3 Not as depressing as it sounds, guys. There is a lot of fun in here. :D Especially at the end. XD
Dedication: To Rain~ Thanks for finally figuring out this crazy-tastic pairing with me. Let's hope this kicks off a trend, eh? ;D And in addition! Congratulations on passing your test! You absolutely deserve it for working so hard! I hope your new job turns out to be AWESOME! As, some little red lizard-man tells me, it will. ;3
Disclaimer: When Square made Adrian in Before Crisis, bet they never thought up this tie-in.
A/N: Anyone notice? I'm getting such a kick out of these unconventional pairings! –Laughs- I hope you can all enjoy them. They are not random, though they might seem to be. As a lover of FFVII, I aim to discover every unexplored territory in the game, and this is just one of the many, many ways in which I go about fulfilling that. Even if you think it's weird, give it a chance. You might be surprised with what you find working out especially realistically in this magnificent videogame world.
Song: Sit Beside Me by Yuki Kajiura, from the .Hack/SIGN OST.
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Note: I apologize for not having combed through this fic as properly as it deserved before. It has now been looked over and parts fixed (one part expanded slightly) to make things flow better. And I hope you enjoy it all the more because of that.
Updated Note: I have looked over this fic one more time, and fixed a few minor things, as well as expanding one more paragraph a little more. I wanted to make sure my readers had a clear image of what secrets the Turks were really involved with. The changes are not big, but will hopefully make reading this fic smoother and much more enjoyable. With that, please do enjoy! Thank you!
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There was a profound compliment to be paid to the multi-faceted territory betwixt Rocket Town and Nibelheim. Though either rested opposite the other with the Nibel Mountain Range parting them, the rest of their lands were teeming with endless plains of short grasses that ended only where the ocean began. It was a realm of space as fathomless as the sky above, and inhabited by none but the few creatures who begged remain nearer the shoreline or the piercing pinnacles of stone in that formidable mountain range.
Only a small number of travelers moved across this country, either through or around the mountains running west-east, for while the one threatened certain death without a guide, the latter gave equal chance of being spotted by the few considerably dangerous monsters that roamed the open expanse. Valron and Velcher Tasks to the north threatened to overtake travelers by mere speed in the former, and the other needed it not. For a Velcher Task's casual assurance in hunting fell back on an aptitude in natural poisons which would fell its prey, or any offenders, in less than a half hour's time, depending on the severity of the infliction. Keeping to the seashore also brought no relief from enemies. Crown Lance, jellyfish of an aerial type and prominent size, were known to commonly come up onto the sands to breed and hunt. And though they were not instantaneously lethal, the confusion, paralysis and sometimes loss of all bodily control in the form of self-defeating rages was known to lead to much the same end when stung by their far-reaching tentacles. The mountains neither offered respite, for the most common of the hunters there were the Nibel Wolves, which were cunning and swift, and knew the advantage of the pack over a single or few travelers.
Yet none of these things were reason for compliment, only for fear in the lesser prepared, and caution in the still well-acquainted. However, those with a penchant for the changing of the seasons could find it in their hearts to understand the nameless gratitude offered to that territory to the north, yet not so far from the rest of the world that it should be a frigid wasteland. For indeed, one word of gratitude paid often by any that traversed the expanse was towards the clement weather.
Now, in walking these plains which he'd chosen specifically for their deserted nature, common inhabitants notwithstanding, Kunsel found it was easy to appreciate the almost summer-leaving, trace-of-autumn tangibility to the air. Many clouds stretched and rolled lazily overhead with a wind that was perpetually dying down and lifting easily against his hair, brushing through the short brown strands with the casualness that made this area seem more welcome to him than the much over-exaggerated Costa del Sol. Of course, that appreciation would only last as long as his tenancy in this area did, for the beach town was far more to his liking in terms of connectedness and shelter. Otherwise he would not be heading for it with the prospect of staying there a duration of a few months' time.
The ocean shifted with particular calm today, he noticed, out of the few things to perceive. What crests of water broke upon the dusky sands were thin and lasted a bare two seconds before they disappeared into the darkness of the ocean waves, cloaked by a passing herd of vaporous sheep above. The Soldier Second's eyes drifted aimlessly from the sea back across the plains. They had been amply deserted, except for the Kyuvilduns which sprang endlessly through the short grasses. Their bent legs gave them the advantage to leap a profound seven feet into the air without huge exertion, and when some dispute or play between these insects chanced to agitate them, their antics became so furious that at a distance he could make out packs of them rippling across the fields like a trailing dust storm come alive.
There was no such activity now, but on the horizon, suddenly, a dark shape close to the ground appeared. Out of essential boredom, noting that none of his contacts saw it fit to respond in the early afternoon hours to any of his advantageous queries about the coast town he was soon to settle in again, he focused his gaze upon the mass. It seemed generally out of his way, to the west and therefore almost directly to the front-right of him, and yet his intrigue was peaked when he found the object to stir. After some few minutes walking, the clouds overhead still providing enough cover to see by, instead of the glaring light where now instead the sun was slowly beginning to reside, he made out that there were two shapes, in fact. One from its largeness and build he could easily discern as one of the Nibel Wolves that sometimes came down from the mountains to roam the plains. The other…began to take on a form much more formidable, and with a suddenness of breath the once-Soldier broke into a faster stride, turning off course towards the two creatures.
One of which he had scarcely identified as a man's.
As he approached, the Nibel Wolf only raised its head from its paws and gazed upon him at first with curiosity. There was normally a perceptible tenseness in the muscles of beasts of prey that gave away when they were ready to lunge, regardless of how calm their positions remained. However in this canine, no such tautness in either the muscles at the joints or rigidity in the head revealed an aggressive intent. This made the optimistic thoughts of the ex-Soldier dwindle feebly. Could the deed already be done with? Abruptly the wind picked up, and he squinted against it as the sun was revealed once more upon the plains. Just as suddenly, he caught sight of the features of the man upon the ground. Kunsel's footsteps faltered. "No…," he breathed disbelievingly.
Zack?
The sable hair, a spiked bang falling over the fair countenance of the motionless man beside the wolf…. The clothes even: a steel blue shirt, darker blue jeans…things Zack would wear when he was off-duty or able to risk the dressing-down. Kunsel broke his stride, tossing aside whatever doubts towards safety he had, and ran towards the motionless figure. But as he came nearer, he slowed again. Something about this unmoving…person was…off. He could not discern what it was, until finally, at a far quieter stride, he stepped to within a few feet of the stranger on the ground, and could almost confirm it. If it was not for the nagging sensation of hope that still echoed feebly in him…he would admit he was certain. The wolf, who had watched his approach and growing hesitance with mild intrigue, now showed off how dull of an interest Kunsel had been to him by emphasizing a large, soundless yawn. Kunsel's attention turned momentarily towards this beast. Why exactly, was it keeping the company of this man who looked like Zack, and who, now that Kunsel had come closer, did not seem ravaged at all? The wolf however, turned its head away from him entirely, staring off towards the rising hills near the mountains and gave a slow blink, completely unconvinced it should be concerned with the newcomer's presence.
Persuaded at least that he was under no threat of danger, the former Second Class Soldier came beside the man on the ground and crouched near his midriff. Only once more did he look up to the Nibel Wolf, as it lay not a hand's breadth from the head end of the man in the grass. Then, Kunsel's gaze dipped down onto the stranger himself. Now that he was nearer, it was easy to perceive the differences between this man and the friend he had taken him for at first glance. Scars of equal identity broke over the underside of the immobile man's jaw on both the left and right of his face, running a jagged line up and towards the eyes. His hair, too, was neater by a considerable amount than Zack's—and shorter—although the ends of the black hair did dwindle into those trait-resembling spikes. His complexion was almost identical to the First Class Soldier's, by far bearing the greatest resemblance to Fair, though his eyebrows seemed a more serious reflection of his friend's. However, the smile on this immobile man threw everything off. The slightly downward crease to the lips—it was nothing you could ever find perpetually engraved in Zack Fair's face, much less when he was at rest and unconsciously let his thoughts wander. That last detail had to convince him….
"Hey buddy," Kunsel provoked softly, nudging the fellow's side with the knuckles of his hand. Rude? Well if one had to pursue details, all was good in the end. Besides, this silent man, who looked prone to much frowning and hardship—by his weather-beaten, if handsome face—and spontaneous choice of nap-spots, bore an unexpected smile on his lips. It was a guess of chance, either way none too uncomfortable, whether or not Kunsel would be brow-beaten by the stranger he now disturbed on this side of nowhere.
Slowly, the figure shifted. One arm, lying across the stranger's stomach moved to cover his eyes, squinting abruptly as the sun once again passed out from under the clouds and shone warmly down upon them. A voice like the tops of cliffs, looking down, and like concealing forests with airy paths spoke then. It came from the nameless man. "Ah, maybe it was time for me to wake up after all. Look how far the sun has risen, and the clouds are swimming away, leaving me behind." Low and faintly enamored it sounded, with a tinge of embarrassment tracing every syllable. And though this lookalike's eyes remained closed as he said it, though this stranger spoke of the sky above without hesitance or strain of uncertainty, Kunsel knew the man was correct in his statements. How? He could only have known the land, and intimately, it seemed. Add another fact however: The man had been asleep. At least that explained in part the Nibel Wolf's aversion to aggression. Though, not all of it.
"Are you aware you have a visitor?" Kunsel queried the man before him, glancing briefly to the wolf at the man's head. The stranger opened his eyes at last and peered out from under his palm at the ex-Soldier. Kunsel noticed then that the unfamiliar person's eyes were like ashen-purple, the color of slate faintly hued by an impure blue, and they read curiosity.
"I am sorry for my discourtesy," the stranger apologized to him, and Kunsel raised his brows at the man's denseness. Lifting one hand, he pointed a finger past the stranger. "No," he corrected wryly. "I meant that."
As though confused by what his unexpected and only speaking visitor could mean, the stranger dropped the arm that sheltered his eyes from the sun, sliding the other out from under his head, and tilted his head back in the grass so that he could see whatever his temporary human companion had spotted. There was a blink as the stranger took in the large brown canine so near to him, and his face turned automatically so that his slate-purple eyes looked past the thick mane and into the face of the wolf. The creature, for that matter, turned its muzzle down towards the man in the grass as it noticed him shift, bringing its nose near and snuffling silently at the face and hair of the scarred man. Then, it snorted softly and turned its attention away over the plains once more, apparently satisfied. The examined man, for that matter, turned his attention back onto Kunsel after the little ritual and smiled. "Oh, no. I didn't realize I'd brought another friend along. I didn't think I could attract them this far from their homes, though I suppose now that's been proved possible. It's not the first time it's happened though," he assured Kunsel, quite calmly and much too complacently for any normal person.
"You do realize that's a wild…Nibel Wolf…," the ex-Soldier felt it was understandable to reiterate, emphasizing gently. He wanted to ensure this man knew full well the circumstances he was in. But the stranger nodded easily, a faint bewilderment touching his face. "Of course…," the stranger responded slowly. "They all are. Wolves, that is, no matter their breed or location. And it's easy to tell one from normal stray dogs and the like. So much grander in size and build…intelligent to the tee, elusive…," he said softer, trailing off into what the former Soldier presumed were his own thoughts.
"But excuse me," the reposing stranger said suddenly. And with a small sound of effort, the black-haired man bent forward to pull himself into a sitting position and smiled…almost shyly at his human guest. Then he turned away from Kunsel and patted the grass at his left side gently and searchingly as he spoke. "I've been rude as to not introduce myself or ask your name and reason for passing." Finally the man's hand stilled and shifted around something, which, bringing into view and gently cleaning on his shirt, was found to be a pair of rectangular, partial-frame glasses. These the stranger placed swiftly upon the brim of his nose and over his ears, blinking to adjust the subtle change in sight, and then turned to face Kunsel crouching beside him. Holding out a hand, the soft-spoken man continued in a voice comparably not unlike steady footsteps on a dirt path. "It is a pleasure to meet you today, sir." Now, facing the ex-Soldier fully and with ensemble assorted, a subtle pinpoint of recognition pierced Kunsel's awareness at the completed look of this odd man. Effortlessly he clasped onto it, instinctive to its eventual insight, as the stranger before him did not cease addressing him. "By your leave," he said to Kunsel, "you can call me Adrian."
There, the identity shifted to meet the face. Pale outlines of a past Kunsel himself had discarded were ushered into recognition, and he ventured not so unskillfully at a guess that would either cinch the person, or leave him fishing for another clue. "Adrian," he said carefully as all these thoughts transpired subconsciously through the recesses of his mind. "Any history with the Shin-Ra?"
The question was casual, but the fleeting expression of shock across the stranger's face was more like one of surprise, and was soon replaced instead with a complex concoction of emotions. A fondness arose in the gentleness of the stranger's gaze and the lowering of his eyelids. Loneliness or sadness? Either of these were befuddled but present in the droop of this man's head, in the smile that did not wholly reach to his eyes. "So you are," the ex-Soldier, Second Class noted, no disrespect in the statement. And now, the final determinant—"You weren't in Soldier, were you." It was not even a question. It didn't have to be. Watching the face before him, Kunsel saw the stranger's smile grow very faintly wider. The oddly colored eyes closed softly and opened again momentarily, only to be followed by a misty, deserted trail of a voice. "No."
"Turk, then?"
"Yes…I was."
Everything clicked in to place neatly.
With these facts confirmed, there was an abrupt shift in Kunsel's thoughts. It dawned on him that the innate recognition, not previously misled by mistaking this man to be his friend, was rather more the result of knowing him by another name, employment, and altogether a different source. The Turks were not out of Kunsel's list of acquaintances, and of the several of them and their dual leaders, he was on rumored comfortable terms. At the very least, he never saw them an enemy. At best, they were considerably good companions of his, who thought like him and worked in a field that echoed and appeased many of his own habits and hobbies respectively. They were a solid group of people. Much more level-headed—and that with actual intelligences to speak of—than many of his own bunch in Soldier. Though that did not mean Kunsel ever fancied a shift in his prospects or position. Where he had been while his duration under the Shin-Ra flag persisted was where he had chosen most comfortable and most conductive to his whims.
Of this particular Turk—for he did match with his internal memories of a Turk by that name and appearance—there was very little known and less said. Though, in respect to their natures, it was apparent that most Turks could fall under the same categories. In Soldier there were no secrets. Past, daily, and future lives were the constant engagement, only breaking to allow room for fantasy and illustrious daydreams, as it were. The Turks, by their hand, kept much of their pasts and present situations secret except for amongst each other. And even then, not every other Turk always knew what had, or everything that had, transpired among them. Sometimes, none knew. As to their futures, the Turks rarely spoke. It was only Soldiers who could dream of fame and honor, riches or hitting it big, where they'd want to live, or how to take care of things back at home or with their future girlfriends, and endlessly on. The Turks, notoriously, did not have that privilege.
Adrian. The very name was an old and simple one, like the man it represented, though he was not yet 'old' by any means. It fit to stand however that it revealed the time in which Adrian had first joined the Turks in respect to many of the others. For, one of the well known facts about him was that he was a senior officer many years before most of the Turks Kunsel had come to recognize and know had ever joined that solitary pack. Also true was the respect and veneration towards Adrian's person, not generated amongst the Turks merely because he was their senior, but in part due to his rumored ability, and likewise…his inability to address anything on the topic of it. Whether it was due to Adrian's objective embarrassment whenever the issue was brought up, or due to some other cause, many did not learn. He merely did not speak of it—his ability and skills. It could be fathomed only his comrades knew the truth behind that, and his leader, Veld, and second-in-command, Tseng, said nothing along the lines of even hinting at the accuracy of any claims. It was a protectiveness that stemmed like an impenetrable wall from most of the Suits, as they were called amongst the army.
To that end, any Soldier would not have known the slightest inkling more. And in fact, what else Kunsel knew was very little altogether. About the person, that is. Adrian of the Turks, however…had another connection of an almost uncanny closeness to a subject on which Kunsel was especially fond.
Adrian's partner, in the Turks, was said to be Shisuné of the Turks…Shisuné being her real name. However, the less fluent, common name she was known by…was Cissnei.
Partner of Cissnei of the Turks, this man before Kunsel was the quiet prodigy who acted as his comrade's, Cissnei's, completing half in all aspects of personal life, training routines, missions, objectives and information prior and during those missions, the equal to her in battles, and more. Though Adrian did not appear once under Kunsel's eyes, the very presence of the man had to be considered. Even further, with the extensive, if not exact knowledge of how the Turks operated and lived, Kunsel had to assume that Adrian's presence—whether physically with that of his partner or not—existed and was there whenever and wherever Cissnei was involved.
…it was on good will and equal terms that he had learned, after the Soldier First's disappearance, that Cissnei had been long on the mission of keeping Zack under surveillance. She herself informed Kunsel of this, many years ago. To further his understanding, he inquired of her and the then second-in-command of the Turks, Tseng, as to the extent of their involvement. The answers of both, supported by factual details and other small consistencies across various informants, stood up to his crosschecking, so that he had some greater expanse of the knowledge of their mission. Or, likened as to not…their lack thereof…a mission.
It was below the radar, sublimated interference. For while the upper tier of the Shin-Ra told them to do one thing…just like was their nature, the Turks listened and carried out their assignments…how they wanted. One thing had been demanded of them—of Veld, and Tseng, and Cissnei—to do. What the Turks' second-in-command had softly said, the day Kunsel went to hunt out details from the Wutaian man, revealed the silent, secret nature of where their hearts had always been—"Surveillance? Yes, we were told to watch him for signs of defection, to keep aware of what might prove, in him, dangerous." The foreign second-in-command of the Turks had then turned his head to him, looking up from the folder in his hand and maintaining nothing but the gravest, calmest face of seriousness Kunsel had ever seen. "We have carried out our orders in full. Not an inch have we strayed from them. Soldier First Class, Zack Fair, was watched. Danger was noted." His voice grew steady, was soft. "We found it in the orders we were given. We are still watching for him…. We won't stop. Those are my orders, Soldier."—The books read slightly differently than the account at last hinted at by the auburn haired Turk, and indirectly confirmed by her second-in-command. A fine detail that Zack could not, nor would have ever picked up on, Kunsel had thought then with a trace of a laugh. Kunsel expected if he had never known the truth…he would have detested the second-in-command, Tseng, for never having done enough to protect and save his friend…that goofball. Yet…he could not.
In returning to Adrian's own involvement and in fact, expertise in the area only Cissnei was perceptibly assigned to, there was by far no better agent to ever echo the field of Zack Fair's caretaking. However unbeknownst to said subject. Quite a large amount of digging and a few questions (that were not seen as too provocative or uncouth) later, and Kunsel could piece together enough of the Turk's background, expertise, and reason for his being chosen as the hidden motivator in this affair. The Turk, first of all, had origins in Gongaga, apparently his hometown and the place where his reason for joining the Turks was based. To what his influence could be to leave home and people, Kunsel could only uproot negative connotations, and so did not seek further insight beyond any potential connection with Zack Fair. However it was in that area that the greatest lack of information was provided. It did not take a smart man to recognize the few years—at least—age difference between the two Gongagan men. In addition, as far as their other eerie connections—swordsmanship, appearance, hometown—went, there was nothing evidencing they had any full or even partial relationship with one another. The inhabitants of the town were little aid. They either 'did not remember' a specter by Adrian's name and description, or they whispered rumors that had if anything, far more fantastical aspects to them than truth. And as Adrian was a man who kept his past so tightly fortified from everyone, just as he hid his potentially magnanimous abilities, there was nothing of the Turk's present self during those years to allude to anything more than supposition.
Kunsel guessed there must have been a connection of some kind. Otherwise the Turk's second-in-command, if not Adrian himself, would not have gone to such lengths to avoid having this older Gongagan's involvement, in the faux mission appointed to Cissnei, covered up. Suddenly, Kunsel took up the hand of the Turk that had begun to droop with uncertainty, grasping it tightly and giving it a firm, pleasant shake. A smile came upon the former Second Class Soldier's face, reaching his lightly pleased, evaluating eyes. "It really is a pleasure to meet you," he said to the former Turk, and his voice conveyed it with the casual flair that there was more to his sentence than he necessarily allowed. The Gongagan raised his eyes to his in redundant shock, followed by the reaffirming grip of his hand. "I'm glad to hear it's so," he responded breathlessly.
"I'm Kunsel," he informed the ex-Turk at last, sitting back on his haunches more comfortably as the handshake ended. "Once a member of Soldier, Second Class." At these words the ex-Turk straightened slightly, his lips tightening in an expressly pensive and then altogether alert expression. "I recognize your name," Adrian said at last, looking over Kunsel again, who was settled before him, as though with new eyes. Then the once-Turk caught himself and shockingly, turned a brilliant shade of red, yanking his head downwards, ashamed of himself for staring. "I'm sorry, but it's hard to place the looks of man who I knew we had associations with but is no longer in his normal attire. Or, I should say, his everyday attire. Especially since…although I did notice you on a few occasions, I never myself saw you the slightest bit out of uniform. Though it seems this was the general consensus among my peers, and so nothing out of the ordinary…." Adrian trailed off quietly after rambling and looked up at the ex-Soldier with apologetic eyes and his teeth tentatively clenched.
By this time, a slow shrewd smirk had curled over the former Soldier's mouth. And, upon seeing it, the ex-Turk's eyes widened perceptibly, the expressions of guilt fading. Instead self-consciousness arose, giving itself away as Adrian leaned back, handsomely undetectably, and almost getting away with the motion if it was not that Kunsel knew unerringly what micro-expressions to look for. There it was too, in the shifting muscles of the neck and the stiffness over most of the ex-Turk's extremities. He was willing to bet if the former Turk had not been so paralyzed with this unexpected scrutiny that he would have likely over-exaggerated his movements, rather than gotten away with these small physical hints. Kunsel leaned forward ever so slightly and narrowed his eyes, maintaining the subverting smile in place and was rewarded with the tinge of red returning to the man's face. "Are you really that easily unsettled by people?" he asked the former Turk presently, smirk widening as he inadvertently caused the man before him to start at the sound of his voice.
"You already know, don't you?" was the quavering reply, and the ex-Turk's face lost some of its redness, the slate-purple eyes locking with his questioner's. Was it a brave move, or one of desperation, Kunsel wondered. The Suit looked half like he was going to push himself one shift after another away from him. It was obvious. So Kunsel shrugged only in response, the mischief leaving his face. It was obvious that the ex-Turk was more comfortable in the presence of wild animals—Kunsel's eyes flickered lightly to the Nibel Wolf that showed no intention of leaving as long as Adrian remained—than he was with people. That remained for two more things to be discerned.
Leaning forward further, Kunsel stretched out his arm and patted Adrian comfortingly on his. The ex-Turk gave no hint of desiring to move away, and Kunsel knew he had his first answer. "You're a good man, Adrian. I won't hold it against you." It was rewarded back to the black-haired man with a light grip of the shoulder, before Kunsel withdrew his arm. It was time. Plant the seed, and continue on. But though Kunsel had times to keep, he lingered a moment longer. There would be no danger in Costa. This, he could afford.
"Forgive me in advance," the former Soldier said levelly, suddenly serious as he inclined his head faintly to cue the once-Turk to his intimation. "A need to know dictates I ask." The sun passed behind the clouds. His green eyes stirred resolutely. "Did you know things would turn out that way? A year ago?"
Unusual slate eyes widened, wavering in their largeness. A stark beam of sunlight tore through the clouds—the eyes shut tightly in the glare, stayed shut…until slowly the face eased. The eyes opened and caught his. They were narrower, easy with death—stark as stars, their black light, still as mountains, pulled him near, drew him…consumed him. Cold—paralyzed in their illumination, he was frozen within the great stone gulf rising high—mountains surrounded, the sky was rock, the stars were dead—only the black glow emphasized by his sable locks filled the air. Fey steel—they were, his eyes, no longer shuddering or shocked. Only resolute. Under the skin, Kunsel felt the prickle of fear rush to consume him, piercing the tips of his fingers, drying his throat, moisture seeping through his curled palms. These were the eyes that could engulf family, the closest of friends…every person of a village, in terror…and thus espouse loathing. His transformation—no, his revelation….
It was more than he had asked for.
The sun played fleetingly over them, uneasy and anxious, clouds ruptured cast sunlight freely upon them, then had it torn away, engulfed again in their fleeing masses. They were caught in another world's passage of time, as though suddenly every green blade of the environ was a piece fixed in a great half globe of glass. He did not know how long they stayed there, only that at last he could not bear the gaze that confessed every truth that could not be borne to pass into words. He himself lowered his head and closed his eyes, and did not open them again until every shadow of darkness had fled and the sun shone once more unbroken upon them. When he opened his eyes, his ears heard the sound of a gentle, effluent sigh. Raising his gaze, he saw the former Turk had once more laid himself back in the grass, the fingers of his hands this time gently resting against the foreleg of the brown wolf as his arms stretched slightly above his dark hair.
"Where are you heading?"
The ex-Turk looked up at Kunsel, and an elusive, once more shy, smile came across his face. They had both broken the spell. Adrian shook his head, just barely, and his eyes narrowed against the brightness as his gaze turned skywards. "There is no specific place," the once-Turk answered. "I go…where I feel I should." A pause, the smile became steady. "Where haven't I gone in a while? Who…haven't I seen? Where are they…anyway…. What were they doing last? Is there something I would like to see? Something I should pick up, along the way…for this one, or that one…?" He trailed off. His fingers softly curled into his palms. Kunsel only noticed the ex-Turk's motion as the Nibel Wolf turned its head from its study of the terrain onto the man beside it, blowing air from its mouth quietly against the relaxed man's hair. The animal's head turned aside next as the wolf closed and opened its jaws, shifting its tongue around a taste it had caught on the air, either from Adrian or the plains. With a jagged uneven sigh, typical of some canines, it dropped its muzzle atop its paws and let its long, pointed tail rise and fall in a dull thud against the grass. Then it was at peace once more.
The former Turk's eyes did not move to the wolf during this, and Kunsel was left silently watching both. Two opposing creatures, alone in the vast landscape, content with each other's company for an afternoon while the weather permitted. Neither seemed the least ruffled by the other, though neither depended on the other for their comfort. It was just like how his happenstance to come across them had been received, even welcomed, but not sought after by either of them. In this, Kunsel began to formulate a further concept of what this man was like, and found it did not sit awkwardly with him. It suited. So he stood and turned his eyes once more southward, for he still had to pass the last ridge of mountains before heading east again.
"You have to be somewhere?"
Kunsel looked down at the former Turk, finding the man gazing after him curiously. With a nod he gave a twitch of his wrist to remove from his pocket a phone, flipping it open to check the time and nodding again to himself. Nonetheless, he further addressed the topic. He felt it deserving to explain that at least to his lone host before he left. Besides, there was one last matter he wanted to cross off his list. "There is a beach house with my spot reserved, and I wasn't expecting to get sidetracked by a plain-lands sky-gazer," he informed Adrian, a sly smirk touching his mouth. This expression soon begged more room to turn into a deviously amused, and somewhat self-accomplished, grin as the ex-Turk's face contorted into one of mortification. So he continued. "I had a few meetings scheduled for this evening, though most of those will have to be put off now." Adrian bolted upright in the grass, startling the Nibel Wolf who made a reproachful growl and sneezed softly into the grass before settling once again a little stiffly, as though affronted by the man's surprising movement. The ex-Turk's eyes quivered in the meantime with unvoiced apology, his mouth falling open in a despairing frown. He seemed quite about ready to duck his head and ask that forgiveness be granted him for taking up his visitor's time, but the former Soldier only shook his own head and resumed speaking. "And it's likely I won't see two of them at least for another few months. However, that's not your concern, even if it is your fault."
The ex-Turk had now indeed ducked his head in deference to the man standing before him, and he seemed to be gazing at the ground searchingly, attempting to coin a manner in which he could properly apologize. Kunsel instead stepped forward and held out his hand before the Gongagan man. "I'll see you around, right Adrian?" The figure upon the ground raised its head, first locking its eyes upon the hand and then lifting them to the ex-Soldier's face. The mouth was opened again, this time in thought it seemed, and a breath was taken in quietly before the renowned Turk of old grasped the extended limb. After a moment, the still-seated man nodded. Kunsel gave him a satisfied smile, tightening his grip. "Good!" he dismissed and let go of the hand. "You know where to find me then, so take care of yourself till you do, Suit." Now an expression like the beginning of a smile came hesitantly across the swordsman's face, and Kunsel took it as his cue. Turning away from the man and the wolf, he continued in a direction that would put him back on his path towards the coast.
He had only gone about twenty yards though, before he stopped and faced back towards the ex-Turk and called one more thing. "Oh and Adrian?" Yes, he was still looking after him as he had been walking away. And yes, he did start abruptly with surprise as he heard the shout. "Heh," the former Second Class Soldier effused to himself before lifting his voice again to be heard. "You won't wander off and forget, will you?" He was rewarded with a further dropping of the jaw, wide eyes, and even from there the crimson spreading across the former Turk's cheeks was discernable. Kunsel laughed to himself and waved an arm once, mildly dismissive, mostly amused, not waiting for the response he knew would come. In the form of the man, of course.
He turned again and this time, continued on without looking back.