Winter tithe

[shardofwinter]

Although the Nexus is generally well kept, this year its inhabitants are a fraction more careful about keeping the paths clear of snow. As if by pushing the mound of white powder to the side they will stop the Nexus from being buried like last year. But as with all places lacking an organised effort, the clearance is patchy. Where some people have thrown out dirt or salt to clear the paths outside of their homes or houses, an equal number haven't. Ice sits perfectly clear over stone and concrete, or hidden under the thinnest layer of snow. All of it a precarious balance of mortal awareness and a Winter spirit's work.

This is one of the few times Reynard walks freely in his human form through the streets. Occasionally someone will recognise him and hasten to take care of their home or pull gloves onto their hands. Most people don't, however. Such is the nature of the Nexus, in a place filled with so many people they don't seem to be able to point to the person encouraging their troubles, even if he has proclaimed it from the rooftops. Once he's done admiring the hard work of some and punishing the negligence of others, he ends up in the centre of the Nexus.

Leaning against a lamp post, he takes his hat from his head, inspecting it briefly before address those passing by. "What are you leaving in the past this year?"

Comments

[websnextdoor]

Underneath the worn sweater Peter wears the collar of his suit peeks out. Winter knows who Peter Parker is, one more set of Winter memories that he owns as securely as his own. He has seen peter learn and grow and make mistakes within Winter's Domain before. Has seen how he's changed because of those lessons. The human might as well be an open book to a Spirit in the midst of his magic.

He stares up at Reynard with flushed wet cheeks that prickle with the cold but do not hurt. Peter's not entirely sure he could pull his hand free of Reynard's grip if he wanted to. That doesn't happen often anymore. His wide eyed stare is part shock but primarily awe as he watches. He's seen magic before, albeit under much more stressful circumstances. He knows, logically, that this is somehow possible. But it feels like a dream to watch the ice coalesce and spiral out into a delicate looking orb.

"What...?" For how much Peter Parker normally talks the one word is almost more than he can get out now. He's afraid his words might break whatever is happening here. As the enchanted ice-turned-silver or the orb might shatter and scatter away on the breeze. It's not until Peter spies a flicker of a poorly hidden smile and the sharp eyes of his old mentor that he makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat.

Shaking fingers accept the snow globe and this time Peter doesn't hide the tears slipping down his face while he stares down at the wry smile of Tony Stark patting him on the shoulder. A time before the world was ending. Before either of them were dying. Peter's smile is watery, wobbly, but there. Genuine.

"A lot..of people...didn't like him." Peter looks up to Reynard and holds the snow globe up for him to see. "But he was...he is...my hero. I can't...thank you e-enough."

[shardofwinter]

Reynard stands still and watches. Time seems to stand still as the present and past blur in the young man's palms. Even while creating the globe it was hard to tell which memories it would draw on, and Peter isn't the only one staring into its misty depths. Of course, that's easier for the spirit when Peter holds it up for him.

There's no smile, but there is a softness in the edges of his face. He nods slowly and puts a hand on Peter's shoulder, steering him to a nearby bench. "Tell me about him."