Wilson and Willow walked through the woods, both a reasonable distance from each other. The sun was getting low in the sky, signifying that night was coming. Willow had plucked grass and twigs, making a sort of torch. It wouldn't be very bright, but at least they could see where they were going when night fell.

The awkward silence between them was broken by Willow clearing her throat, gaining Wilson's attention. She looked at him and took a deep breath.

"I apologize for earlier. I guess I just couldn't control my emotions," she said, wringing her hands. She looked embarrassed, and even a little bit flushed.

Wilson shook his head and smiled a bit. "It's fine, I figured that you needed some comfort," Wilson said, a little bit more cheery than he intended.

Willow returned his smile, her dull eyes showing some of the warmth she once had. Color crept onto Wilson's cheeks, and he turned away, walking a little faster. Willow kept up with him, however.

...

Night fell. Willow pulled out the torch, lighting it with two pieces of flint they found early. Wilson offered to carry it, but Willow shook her head, saying he had 'no experience with fire', which Wilson greatly disagreed.

"I don't think it's very ladylike to be carrying such a thing around," he argued, and immediately regretted the words as Willow's face grew a vicious bright red.

"Yea, but it's not very like someone who spends their days sulking in a dark old shed to be carrying a torch around either, don't you think?" She retorted, Wilson narrowing his eyes in annoyance. Sometimes she was irritable. But sometimes she was sweet...

Wilson mentally slapped himself at that thought, a tiny amount of blush appearing on his pale face. Don't think that way, idiot! He screamed in his head.

"Fine," he scoffed, although he did feel rather embarrassed. "And it's not a shed. It's my house. Besides, you practically live in a castle!"

"It's not a castle, it's a temple! All creatures in Umbra rejoice at the coming of Summer! Do you see them handing you offerings? Winter is a brutal season of cold and freeze-" she cut herself off at that, seeing Wilson's eyes darken.

Wilson stood over her, making her step back. "Winter is a time for rest. Animals rest, plants rest, they all need rest. Otherwise, they couldn't rejoice in your precious Summer," he growled, not realizing that he was scaring Willow.

"I-I-" she stuttered, but Wilson snatched the torch away from her, and began walking again.

I nearly forgot why the gods are so irritable. Because they hate my season so.