Before Solas had so much as parted his lips to speak, Cole was already well aware of what he intended to say. His answer would be no different than the countless other times he had approached him with the plea, tone laced with sympathy and concern.  It was of no surprise to the spirit, then, when the elf cast his gaze downwards and repeated words that had already been spoken and that he was far too used to hearing. Still, the corners of the boy’s lips curled into a faint frown, disappointment etched on his pale and gaunt features. 

“Yes”

There was little more that needed to be said. He knew his words to be true, and as such did not make the mistake of denying them. There were always others that he could help, others that needed more immediate help than Solas. Their hurts were tangible, easy to untangle and break loose He could help them by giving, whether that be a blanket to shield them from the harsh and bitter wind, or perhaps something less material like words of comforting reassurance and compassion. Solas needed neither of these things. There was no item he could give to heal the torment of past mistakes (save for something impossible for him to acquire) and any words that could be spoken would either tear open the scarred wounds or had already been said...but that wouldn’t stop him from trying. 

“There are others that are louder, brighter, more demanding than yours, pulling me in. But you are quiet, softer than they are until I get too close. It gets sharper then, too tangled and too easy to tear. Pull at one knot and it makes the others worse. I want to, no, need to...but words make it fester and more comes in, radiating, unstopping and unbound. I can’t...”  The boy spoke so rapidly that it was a wonder how the words never sputtered or stumbled. His breath hitched in his throat and Cole squeezed his eyes shut tight, as though by doing so it might simply will the other’s pain away. He forced himself to take one deep and steadying breath; it was more than clear that dwelling on this wouldn’t make it any better. It took several moments for Cole to peak his eyes open once again and glance towards Solas, his sympathetic gaze expressing far more than words could ever hope to. 

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---- 

She’d tracked him for so long. She’d lost him for  so long. Her forest was safe, but she was to the  winds again-- seeking a truer friend than any she’d  had. 

She followed a lanky wolf-- a pup, still, but old enough  that he was sizable. Slender, lanky, awkward, Suledin  knew the scent they followed best, and she kept at his  heels. 

And there he was, as they crested a hill. There he was,  in strange armor. It had been three years. Three long  years, since she’d seen this man. She could have cried.