#| ☩ thread 01: Touya: niveusveritas ☩

[auguriium]

@niveusveritas​

   Mist dampens his long hair and pale skin as the thick mass of clouds covering the gray skies create an unrelenting fog all around him. The brim of his hat feels heavy with the moisture clinging to it, and the stray strands of verdant locks cling awkwardly to his clammy cheeks as he peers fruitlessly through the seemingly solid wall of haze. The air is heavy. Every time he inhales it settles like a rock in his lungs, and he can taste the bitterness of sea salt when the wind rushes down his throat. His clothes stick to his lean frame, and all running the sleeve of his shirt across his eyes in an attempt to clear up his vision does is make his face wetter. And squeezing his eyelids shut doesn’t offer much relief either. The unfavorable weather serves to make everything around him appear blurry, and it’s nearly impossible for him to tell east from west and north from south despite the knowledge he has at his disposal. He can feel the drum of his heart picking up in speed and volume with every silent beat of Zekrom’s leathery wings against the clouds from an array of emotions he doesn’t quite have a name to describe, but knows, without a doubt, fear isn’t one of them. And his expression is calm despite the manner in which his brows are scrunched up in worry, and the way his nose wiggles whenever the massive dragon plunges through a willowy cloud, effectively giving him a face-full of chilled water that sends a shiver down his spine. A low grunt always following shortly afterwards that makes his lips curve upwards into a smile at his partner’s somewhat sheepish apology that mixes with the low buzz of the dull blue static that rolls over the Pokemon’s entire body. But he hardly minds. He doesn’t need his eyes to get through this fog anyway. 

     In the distance, he can hear the high-pitched cries of Latios and Latias calling to them - guiding them. Their pleasant voices ringing out loud and clear to them. And though they’re actively conveying directions to him, they’ve largely come to understand that these skies aren’t intended to allow humans safe travel. Yet, he harbors nothing but trust towards them and Zekrom who carefully follows after them. While his partner is wholly lacking in their grace, their broad body is easily built for poor conditions, and so following after the twin dragons isn’t difficult, even if Zekrom does so with a certain thundering intensity N has grown terribly used to over the years they’ve been traveling companions. Though he does lean down to whisper to the dragon to, perhaps, quiet the crackle of their wings as they soar through the air so they don’t frighten their current guides or any of the Pokemon on the islands he’s perfectly aware are nestled beneath these clouds, even if he can’t see them. But the warmth he feels drifting upwards towards them implies they’re flying rather close to the water - low and far from view of anything but the two dragons soaring in and out of his meager range of vision. Their voices slowly going quieter - softer. They’re afraid. Or rather, they don’t want to cause a fuss. And their reasoning threatens to make his heart sink into the very pit of his stomach. They had both warned him of Reshiram’s condition before he had managed to convince the pair to lead him to the dragon of truth and, by extension, their trainer. But the closer they drew, the more it truly settled in, and the more desperate, concerned, and nearly ill he felt. 

     He inhales sharply, nearly choking on the fishy and tangy smell of the sea in the process, in an attempt to calm himself when he can feel the static flowing through Zekrom’s body grow a bit more agitated in response to his heightening emotions, but it’s next to impossible to bury them. Not when his heart is doing jumping jacks between his gut and his throat, and the fog is slowly beginning to lift around them as Latios and Latias bid them farewell for the time being - their voices quickly fading in the background. “Thank you,” he whispers softly against the wind as his fingers slowly stroke Zekrom’s neck. His pale lips pursing as the clouds begin to part, and the sea beneath them is replaced by lush, dewy grass and vibrant flowers that only briefly catch his eyes before the cries of the wild Pokemon still able to thrive in such a remote location steal his attention, and he offers them a sheepish smile and a series of apologies for startling them. Zekrom’s little growls of their own apologies, admittedly, don’t help too much, but he supposes they’re not fleeing or regarding them as a threat - instead, they’re simply tucking out of the less than graceful dragon’s way as they right themself - massive claws sinking into the moist ground as Zekrom makes landfall with a soft ‘plop’. 

      With quite a bit more grace, N dismounts from the dragon’s back, and removes his hat, tucking it into his back pocket before trying to wipe his eyes once again - this time with significantly more success now that the warm air has helped dry him ever so slightly. “Are you—” Before he’s even able to finish that sentence, Zekrom’s entire demeanor has changed. Their tail flashes a bright blue, and they’re off - stomping through the grass and hurdling themselves into the mouth of a cave covered in moss. “Ah, Zekrom, please be—” Gentle, but the last word never escapes his throat when it finally dawns on him that Zekrom isn’t chasing after the wild Pokemon to befriend, but has singled out exactly what - rather who - they had come here to find in the first place. If his heart had been a personal roller-coaster before now, it had gained at least three drops and five loops in the few second it takes for that realization to click. And he swallows hard around the lump that forms in his dry throat as his lips quiver between a frown and a smile. A mixture of joy, excitement, heartache, worry, and dread all threatening to drown him at once. He’s lost track of the years since he had last seen the other; lost track of the countless almost’s and so close’s he had to finding Touya over all of them. Guilt lingers for not being able to find him sooner - Latios and Latias had made Reshiram’s condition unsettlingly clear to him, and it made worry for Touya’s sake. Was he well? Was he just as worse for ware as the dragon? A part of him is afraid to move - to find out, but how badly he’s longed to see the other again; to speak with him, and to hear his voice. 

     His heart lurches when he hears Zekrom call to him - wandering why he’s simply standing there - eyes wide, and heart on his tongue. He doesn’t know either. He shakes his head, and quickly combs long fingers through his hair in a pitiful attempt to make it vaguely presentable before racing after the dragon. Small pants heaving past his lips by the time he makes it to the dragon’s side, and another surge of awkward emotions strikes him hard enough that his heart swells, and he grips the fabric that covers his chest tightly in a loose fist. His knuckles as white as his shirt. “I’ve finally found you...Touya.”