Both froze, unwilling to approach one another. Their eyes locked together, watching for movement. Gareth then decided to break the ice. "So, this tribe... Are they just Placids? Is that why you're here?" Meraioth waited a second before replying "No, there are others there, but I wouldn't waste my time. Where are you from?" Gareth, like his fellow frost, waited before answering. "Aldrect." "Aldrect?" Meraioth said, confused. Gareth tried to explain "The Holy City-" but was interrupted. "I know about Aldrect. But that's gotta be 400 kilometers." Gareth then suggested "I'll lower my guard if you lower yours." Meraioth considered for a moment, then loosened his muscles, giving Gareth the benefit of the doubt.
Gareth had dropped all defense, just as he had promised. Could this be the brother Saphia had mentioned just yesterday? He had to be. He was roughly his own age and of the same species. "So what part of Aldrect are you from?" he asked. Gareth sat down, contemplating what to say, but decided nothing would be better than the truth. "I don't want to talk about it."
Hours had passed and Meraioth had left him behind. He headed for Aldrect, arriving five days after Gareth had left that same city. He spent another couple of days tracking down the one who kidnapped his brother. Perhaps he could learn from her. After all, his intentions were never pure. He found her in her appartment, sleeping amidst the stolen jewels and precious metals. "Greetings, Miss Reid," he said plopping down in a nearby recliner. "You don't know me, but I know you. And I'd like to learn from you the art of thievery."
Gareth, however, had managed to make it to the tribe the evening after he'd met the other Frost, completely unawares of their relation. He stumbled into the camp and collapsed from exhaustion. When Gareth awoke, he found himself in one of the huts of the camp. Above him, a vaguely familiar face stared at him. "Mom?"