singillatim | Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow

"And that is why you became the wolf. Because you think only the same as an animal. Nothing more than that."

He leans back, his head on the edge of the springs.

"There is, of course, one massive flaw in your logic," Hickey points out, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Turning into a wolf isn't the only gift this place gave me."

"No, you would have received an earlier one, yes?"

Thomas shrugs. "What is that one?"

It's odd describing this one. Turning into a wolf is easy to talk about: he turns into a wolf. But his first gift, it's less one-to-one. There's more there.

"I'm more suited to this place. I can walk on the ice and through the woods without tripping in the snow. I don't get tired as easy. I'm only a little tired when I make the journey from Milton to Lakeside, where I used to wake up sore. It's easier to survive here."

"Ah. Is that what causes your hunger?" he asks without looking at him, without seeing him. He can keep the peace.

Plenty of things cause his hunger. The fact that he was hungry before. The fear that what happened back in the Arctic, when their food was killing them, will happen again here. The knowledge that there are very few people he can trust and the only person Hickey can rely on is himself.

"S'pose so," he says, with a shrug. "The hunger got worse ever since I got that gift. I can keep it at bay normally, but when you've got a situation like that month the Darkwalker got in our minds, it gets troublesome."

You know. That month that Hickey killed and ate a dude.

Thomas scoffs. "Is that still the lie you keep to, Mr. Hickey? That it was the Darkwalker who forced you into it? That it was the Darkwalker who told you to kill and consume and desecrate?"

"It's the truth," Hickey says, with a little shrug. "Whether you believe me or not, that doesn't matter. But I know I'm right. I know what happened."

The jury is out on whether that's the truth or not. But one thing is certain: based on his tone, it seems like Hickey truly feels the Darkwalker forced him into it.

"It seems to be simply a convenient excuse for you to think of your actions as right and just without considering it may not be."

He knows he won't get through to him, though. He's not really trying.

"I wouldn't call it just," Hickey points out. "Inevitable, maybe. Something I couldn't account for. But dunno if it's just."

It was just murder. Easy as that. Plain and simple. Nothing right or just about it, it is what it is.

"Inevitable to take a life that wasn't yours?" He scoffs. "How you became this cruel is the true mystery."

"Inevitable that someone would get hurt considering the Darkwalker's actions," he retorts. "You saw what it was like back then."

He scoffs. "And yet I could resist."

"For the moment," Hickey shrugs. "Who knows what will happen next time?"

Because there will be a next time. Of course there will be. There always is, especially in places like this.

Thomas is quiet for a very long moment.

"Perhaps," he agrees. "But do you wish for it, Mr. Hickey?"

It's Hickey's turn to pause for a moment. When he asks his next question, it's with absolute seriousness.

"Do you even care what my answer is to begin with?"

Because he's suspecting it's no. No, Jopson doesn't give a shit.

"No," he says softly. "No, but I think the information is important. Not to persecute you; we have seen the benefits of that, but because your perspective is valuable, even if I think you are more mad than clever."

There's a moment as Hickey thinks all this over, letting himself enjoy the warmth of the hot springs as he decides what to say next. He'll have to get out soon—his fingers are starting to get a bit pruney. But not yet. He wants to answer this first.

"It's killed six people so far. That Singh girl. The four in the church. That Russian in Lakeside. Six people over the span of six months. Then we've had six months where nobody's died at it's hands. Obviously the deaths give it power. It was only able to do that, to twist our minds so severely, after the Russian died. And it's recent attempt, when it tried to remove parts of our minds, that didn't work as well as it did in June."

After all, nobody died during that business two months ago. Whereas with the last time...what, at least a dozen died? Maybe more.

"That's why I say it's inevitable. To have a period of so long with so few deaths...doesn't sit right with me. Wonder if it's biding it's time. And if so, why? For what?"

"I think we're being protected," he says, genuinely thoughtful. "Saved for something else."

Thomas has the Aurora Call; he can hear Enola when she's crying or generally in distress. He doesn't volunteer that information, though.

It's because Jopson is thoughtful, obviously sincere in his pronouncements, that Hickey doesn't snipe back. Instead, he muses,

"Protection can only last so long."

"Not always, Mr. Hickey. Sometimes it lasts just as long as it needs to."

He starts to pull himself up and out of the hot springs, finding a towel and wrapping it around him.

"In that case, I hope you're right."

Hickey stays in the hot springs for now. Just because he's comfortable being naked around Jopson doesn't mean he likes it. If Jopson's leaving, he'll stick it out a bit.

"Especially because that 'needs to'? I don't think it'll apply. There's no getting rid of the Darkwalker."

"Not all of us have the same dismal view of the future," he says and turns around, showing the lash marks on his back to Hickey for the first time as he dresses.

Well.

That's interesting.

Hickey's eyes widen a little as he looks over at Jopson's back, taking in the lash marks. He's quiet for a moment, not bringing attention to it, before he muses,

"You say dismal. I say practical."

"Practical isn't dismal. Practical is - factual." He gets dressed, then sits to pull on his boots.

Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow

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