Winter is approaching, fast.

Snow is beginning to overtake the grounds wherever they walk, icicles hanging from every upper structure that they can cling to. Thalia recognises the tell-tale signs of Winter approaching before the cold comes, signalled by the widows starting to board up their windows with cardboard and the fathers of big families stocking up on sustainable food and coal for the glacial months.

Frost coats her clothing, snowflakes becoming somewhat of a second skin over the tattered First Army uniform that she had taken from the short supply. In all honesty, Thalia doesn't remember what it felt like to not have a constant ache in her face. Her joints are swiftly becoming stiff, as if freezing over with the tide.

She was not made for these conditions, but here she was anyway, in them willingly.

If it hadn't been for Mal, it is likely that Thalia wouldn't have considered this mission for even a second. Never mind the fact she had to resort to dirty tactics in order to get permission to join them. Isn't something she's particularly proud of, but you've gotta do what you've gotta do, right?

   "We've got to hurry up if we want to make it there before sundown," said Mal, his words accompanied by the chittering of his teeth. "We'll make camp there tonight, then we'll start again tomorrow."

It's been like this for a week. Travelling through slow laden towns, over mountains, back into towns and into mountains again. Tonight, Mikhael and Dubrov were taking up the task of travelling into the small city centre to replenish their supplies. As of right now, it's just Thalia and Mal. They'll set up camp and make a fire that will allow Mikhael and Dubrov to locate them in the forest.

   "Got it, boss," she tells him, giving a mock salute.

They continue their travel, Thalia's boots leaving heavy imprints on the show. She's had to give up the habit of walking on her toes, because you can't risk that on snowy hilltops. One wrong step will send you plummeting to death. Of course, that's only if hypothermia doesn't take you for its own first.

An obstacle comes in the form of a steep hill, and Thalia huffs instinctively upon setting her eyes on it. What is it with the never ending hills? Mal seems to be having the same line of thought, and releases a huff of his own before clamping his hands on two rocks at either side and heaving himself up.

Thalia is still planted firmly on the ground, staring at the hill with a doubtful eye. Mal sighs, leaning down slightly and extending his palm, "Give me your hand."

Well, Thalia isn't going to say no to that. She allows him to clasp her hand in his, pressing a foot to the hill and pushing herself upward. At last, she is on the hill beside him, his hand still held in her own. She chokes out a breath, looking down to the ground below.

   "Saints, why is this so—"

   She loses her footing.

But Mal is quick, his other hand shooting out to press behind her back and steady her position. They are pressed chest to chest, Thalia's mouth hung open in what might've been a scream had he not caught her.

Mal stares at her, his eyes wide, "Are you all right?"

"No." But she laughs anyway. Another near death experience, and all Thalia can bring herself to do is laugh.

"Come on, we'd better get go set up camp before Mikhael makes a joke about us slow dancing on the edge of death."

She gave a short nod, following after him silently. Their hands had not separated entirely, her fingertips barely clinging to his own, but it was rather nice. It wasn't as if they had all that much privacy with Mikhael and Dubrov being here, and every time that Mal or Thalia so much as sat within a foot of each other they cackled and made jokes.

   It was fair game, really. Thalia is sure she'd have done the same.

But she was going to appreciate the small moment of seclusion that they had right now, because she wasn't entirely sure when they would get one again. The hunt would go on indefinitely, until they found the Stag.

At last, Mal stopped near an area covered by an abundance of trees and declared that this is where they would set up camp. Thalia agreed, and followed his lead in the task of putting up the tent once again.

It wasn't a particularly big one. It was a tight squeeze with the four of them, and more than once had Thalia woke to find Dubrov snoring loudly onto her calf. She couldn't complain, really, when she had been doing the exact same thing to Mal's shoulder.

She cleared a log big enough for two of the snow coating it's bark, before sitting down and patting the spot next to her. Mal, still in the midst of making his (admittedly pathetic) bed, raised an eyebrow in question.

"Sit down for a minute, will you?" She requested. "Your bed isn't going to disappear into thin air if you take a break. We've been walking for eight hours straight."

And they had. Mal had insisted that they set off as soon as the sun began to rise if they wanted to be in a safe place before darkness took over the sky once more, so they had been out since the early hours of the morning.

Mal sighed heavily, but nodded his head in defeat. "Budge over."

She grins brightly at him, shifting along to leave enough space for him to sit. He does, exhaling dejectedly, his heavy boots dug into the snow. Thalia's finds a space next to it, the point of her own beginning to trace patterns and unintelligible letters.

When she opens her mouth to speak, Mal cuts her off, "I don't feel like talking."

Usually, Thalia is a fan of silence. Any task that can be completed in silence is preferred, though when she worked with Zaria her preferences were rarely taken into consideration, the girl babbling on about Saints knows what for hours on end. And now Thalia finds herself doing exactly the thing she had despised Zaria for.

   She talks.

   "You don't have to talk, but I personally am not a fan of silence as of late and have began to realise that leaving your mind to its devices is very dangerous, so all you have to do is listen to my lovely voice. Now, did I ever tell you about the time my brother and I nearly burned the stables down?"

   She talks.

   "So I told her she'd gone mad as a hatter for thinking it was done like that, and then she told me I was the worst person she'd ever met like I wasn't an eight year old with a severe case of I Will Cry If You Dislike Me? I think I might still have that condition now, actually."

   And she talks.

   "Then my mama comes in, crying about how the flowers haven't begun to bloom yet and the time to sell them is nearing, and it took ten year old me screaming in her face very loudly for her to realise she hadn't even planted them?"

In the end, Thalia only stops speaking because she has lost her breath, and seemingly all self-awareness. When she garners the courage to look up at Mal, she finds that he seemed to be thinking the same thing, his gaze fixated on her.

Thalia laughs awkwardly, "Wow. I talk a lot. That's embarrassing."

"Endearing," Mal corrects immediately. "It's endearing."

She gasps, clasping a hand over her heart, "Mal Oretsev, is this you saying that you like me? Like, you like me like me?"

Then he smiles, and Thalia decides the whole charade is worth it. The whole charade will always be worth it, so long as she gets to see his sunshine smile before the darkness comes to snatch it away.

"I wouldn't go flattering yourself," Mal warns. "But I think you're alright."

Thalia, utterly affronted, scoffs. "I'd say I'm plenty more than alright, Malyen. And I think you'd say so, too, considering it was you who—"

Mal reaches out to clasp a hand over her mouth, successfully quieting her. Thalia's eyebrows shoot up, and he smiles mockingly, "If the footsteps I hear are any indication, when Mikhael and Dubrov are about to return to us. So if I were you, then I'd put a lid on this type of talk, because I know that I don't wanna talk about my sexual endeavours with them. If you do, that's your decision, but keep my name out of it."

She scowls, thinking for a moment as she pries his hand off of her face. "You owe me."

   "You'll get your payment," Mal promises, pushing himself off of the log as the footsteps grew closer. "Mikhael, Dubrov, what in the name of Saints took you so long?"

"This wanker got the wrong meat, Mal. I had to go all the way back and try to renegotiate with the seller!"

"First of all, Mikhael, that simply is not what happened. Stop talking shit."

As the three men bickered back and forth, Thalia allowed herself a moment of peace. Loud, infiltrated by booming voices peace, but peace nonetheless. Her mind has been quiet for the days that they have been gone, and Thalia can't seem to figure out why.

An out of body experience, of sorts. She's been acting wholly out of character, impulsive decisions and inability to stop speaking even when the time calls for silence. Whatever is going on, it isn't good, and Thalia does not like it one bit.

She wishes that she could write to Zoya, to see if she knew anything about what may be going on.

Mal returns with Mikhael and Dubrov moments later, the three of them bickering in a way that reminds her of the boys from school. She smiles in greeting, waving them over and taking the task up of preparing a small meal for them before they go to sleep. 

When she falls into her makeshift bed that night, it's with a sense of wondering about the area around her. She can't quite pinpoint where it is they are, seeing as she had simply followed Mal's lead and allowed him to guide them. He was the tracker, after all.

   Wherever they were, Thalia didn't have a good feeling about it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Thalia wakes with a start. She is alone in the tent, the three sleeping bags that should have been occupied by her accomplices lay empty. Her heart pounds in her chest as she practically bursts out of the tent, her mind racing with a million possibilities, none of them good.

The area around her is quiet, the fire Mal had lit earlier burning low. The remnants of dinner lay scattered, presumably ruffled through by animals in need of sustenance. But as she tuned into her senses, Thalia's heart stops its rhythmic beating, and drops to the hollow of her stomach.

   She can't feel his heartbeat.

Before she can begin to consider the consequences of her actions, a loud shout echoes from metres away, and Thalia hastens in the direction of it. The scene in which she comes across can not be described as anything less than horrifying, and she feels bile begin to rise in her throat.

On the floor, Mikhael and Dubrov lay in pools of their own blood, wounds puncturing their bodies. Attempting to scamper across the floor via his knees, a heavily injured Mal wails in anguish.

"Mal," she calls, rushing over to halt his movements and cease any further injuries. "Mal, you'll hurt yourself. You have to stop and let me see to your wounds."

But he only pushes past her, falling over Dubrov's body and crying out upon seeing the state of him. Thalia cannot locate his heartbeat, nor Mikhael's, and she feels as though she very well might collapse looking at their corpses.

And she falls to the ground, too, head tucked between her knees, unable to tune out the sound of Mal's apologies in the wind. She doesn't understand. She doesn't get it. Why do bad things happen to the people she cared about? Why is it always one step forward, three steps back?

What can Thalia do to make it stop?

Then, she feels the air around them shift. Almost parting in order to welcome a new being, one mythical and of another world entirely. She hears Mal gasp sharply, her head rising of its own accord.

Upon setting her eyes upon a creature that she had believed to be a figment of storybooks, a folk tale carefully crafted by many a man over the years, the sob that Thalia lets out is almost inaudible.

Morozova's Stag is standing right in front of them, and Thalia is entirely sure that she has died and been welcomed to the making at the heart of the world, where she meets the creatures of her wildest dreams. But when Mal scrambles to his feet and tears her up from the ground, her thoughts of this being something of a dream are shattered.

They've found the Stag, and they have news to deliver.

━━━

hey, so this fic is very near the end. like, less than five chapters??? that being said, is there anything that you readers want to see before it ends? i will be continuing thalia and mal's story but it wont be for a long while since we don't have confirmed s2 yet so i want to include anything you guys would like to see before this ends! plus i have a bit of writers block rn i won't lie and i just need inspo so pls give me some <3