It's early in the afternoon, and drizzly -- not as rainy as it could be, not rainy enough to be thought of as putting proper effort into it, just enough to make anyone out in it a damp mess and grey the light that filters through the cloud cover. The sound of the rain and light wind is joined by the sound of footsteps -- a stop, and after a pause, footsteps again.

Martin has set up his camp along the ridge, in the relative cover of one of the cairns, with his lean-to forming a defense against the persistent drizzle. This, coupled with a well stoked fire, means he's keeping fairly warm and dry and, given how he's curled up in his blanket-like cloak and nursing a cup of tea, with his hair sleep-tousled, implies he's not going out to trade today, but rather waiting out the weather to either take a nasty turn that would drive him indoors, or to improve so that he could head out afield. At the sound of footsteps, he peeks around the lean-to and stones, not venturing out terribly far, but enough to get a look-see as he calls out, "Hello?"

Serendipity is heading away, back down the ridge, presumably the way he came, and freezes at the sound of the voice, turning his head slightly to see if he's been seen or not. His hair is free, and wet enough to imply he's been outside for a while, out in the rain without cover. He looks miserable and skittish, not like his usual self at all.

Martin's brow furrows with concern, and he rises, the cloak swirling around him as the pooled fabric pours out of his lap where he's bunched it up for more warmth. "Ren?" he asks. "What are you... come here. It's cold. You're all wet."

Serendipity hesitates, looking as though he might run off instead, and then his shoulders and head slump, and he turns to slink toward Martin obediently, like a spirit-broken puppy. Under the coat, he's got his pants and boots, but no shirt; he does, in fact, look wet and cold.

Martin frowns fretfully and takes off his cloak, draping it around Ren's shoulders and drawing him closer with it, his strong arms curling around the other man's in a warm, secure hug. Martin's skin and hair carry the lingering scent of wood smoke, tea, and the earth he's slept upon. "Come get warmed up," he says softly.

Serendipity does not burst into tears, but looks like it might have been a close thing. This close, it's clear it wouldn't be the first time today. He leans into the hug, after a second, and rests his forehead against the taller man's shoulder. He doesn't resist being moved to the lean-to, out of the rain, or pretty much anything at all.

Martin draws Ren toward the lean-to and inside to sit, keeping his arm around Ren's shoulders. The cloak is voluminous to encase them both, and that's just what Martin does with it. He rests his forehead against Ren's temple, just holding him for a moment before offering, "If you want to talk about it, I'm here. If you'd rather not, that's okay too. Do you want tea?"

Serendipity starts to nod a little, and then shakes his head. "...no," he whispers, "...no tea. ...thank you." He leans into Martin, curling into himself surprisingly small, and stays quiet and still, apparently not ready to talk yet, beyond that little reply.

Martin nods a little and draws Ren in close, resting his cheek on the man's hair and rocking him gently. For the time being, that's all he does -- holds, cradles in his arms, rocking. He doesn't press, doesn't pry. There is an air of patience about him, like he could outstare a statue if he had a mind to.

Serendipity is very quiet for a while longer, eventually murmuring, half-muffled by Martin's shoulder, "...why're you so kind to me?"

Martin strokes Ren's hair, shifting a little at the question to gaze at him calmly, a sad, small smile playing upon his lips as he touches fingertips to Ren's chin, lifting his head to meet his gaze. "Why on earth would I be anything but?" he asks gently.

"People mostly... they think.. they act like..." Ren trails off, and tries to look down, mostly foiled by the fingertips. He glances aside, toward the flames, instead. "...I s'pose you're not really a terrene, exactly, anyway," he murmurs, a tiny bit wryly, and sighs, pulling away just a little to free both hands enough to gather his hair, and wring it out =not= over either of them. Thus occupied, he says, softly, "Aurelia doesn't love me."

Martin draws away to let Ren wring out his hair unpestered, though he unclasps his cloak to leave with the fellow, seeming okay for the time being in merely a layer of clothing. "I'm sorry," he says earnestly. He doesn't doctor the words, doesn't grapple for some magic phrase that'll make it all better. Instead, he warms his hands by the fire and keeps his attention focused upon Ren intently. "That's got to hurt."

Serendipity stares at the fire, mindlessly twisting the rope of his hair tighter, even past where it actually stops releasing water. "...more'n anything," he murmurs. "More'n.... more'n having my ribs broken. More'n anything."

Martin gently reaches for Ren's hands to untangle them from his hair and clasp them in his own. "I can't imagine," he says softly. "I wish there was something I could do, but..." He smiles weakly, apologetically. "I'm a poor substitute."

Serendipity lets Martin take his hands, and his hair gradually untwists itself, falling free again around his shoulders and back. "The. ...holding me part. Felt a little better," he replies, and sighs again, raggedly. "Shouldn't even've. It was stupid t' hope."

Martin draws Ren to him again, taking up this holding situation anew as he whispers, "Come here. It's never stupid to hope. Painful sometimes, but never stupid." He brings Ren's head to rest against his chest, fingers curling through his hair. If nothing else, he's got the holding part down.

Serendipity curls in, taking advantage of that ability. "It was. I shoulda known I didn't really... wasn't ever any chance. He's- an' I'm just-" He shakes his head, frustrated, and is silent several seconds. "'s just. I wanted, eventually..." He sighs, and finally murmurs, "...she's everything I ever wanted but mine."

Martin hugs Ren to him, nuzzling his hair, eyes closed with a sympathetic ache. "It hurts," he whispers, as though saying it somehow lends permission to the pain that's already there. "Time heals all wounds, but... it hurts. I'm so sorry, Ren. Personally, I find you adorable."

Serendipity's arms slide around Martin's waist, and hug him fiercely in reply to that. They stay there, then, though not so tight. "...she does love me, just. Not the same way. We're still kumi. She still... we..." Another trailing off, and another sigh. "I had this. Thing. Like a daydream I guess. Where it was her and me and we had a caravan and we travelled around and stuff and we were raising a family, an', an' it's stupid, but I just. I wan'ed it so bad... an' I still love her an' I still wanna take care of her an' I don't know how I'm s'posta do that, an' I never, she's the first person I ever..." The words stop tumbling out as he bites his lip in frustration, and then a sudden, somewhat bitter laugh escapes. "Bet Coyote's laughin' his ass off at me."

Martin strokes Ren's hair calmingly, seeming to enjoy the touch of it. There's a thoughtless intimacy in the touch, the way he cradles Ren to him, nuzzles his temple, hold him close. It isn't a come-on in the slightest, but there are so many little things that speak of the simple joy of contact. It's the furthest thing from forced. "He may well be," Martin replies sardonically. He plants a soft kiss to Ren's hair and adds softly, "But I'm not."

Serendipity responds to the touch similarly, curling in closer the safer it feels. "...thank you," he replies, quietly, "'s ironic, it probably serves me right. 's funny, in a way. I just can't. I can't laugh at it yet. It hurts like I'm gonna die. An' I gotta go back, and. ...parta me just wants t' start down the road t'ward Millinocket maybe and run."

Martin leans back upon some cushioning blankets, drawing Ren with him. It's time for the hardcore cuddling, and he provides without a word about it. "You don't have to laugh yet," he promises. "And, you know, if you need to get away awhile, I can always use a hand down in Millinocket." He smiles a little, brushing a lock of Ren's hair from his face. "You could come with, and I wouldn't even make you do much work."

Serendipity looks tempted, but torn. "I gotta... I guard her. When she sleeps. From... it's a long story, but. If I'm not there, what if they...?" He shakes his head, and subsides a moment. "...maybe I can tell her to stay with him when she sleeps. When I'm not there," he says very, very quietly.

Martin leans forward to press a kiss to Ren's cheek, and he coaxes the kin's head to his shoulder again, making with the hair-stroking. "What do you need to do for you, Serendipity?" he asks calmly.

Serendipity lets his head be guided, and his arms stay wrapped around the trader. "...not sure. Jump offa cliff?" he suggests facetiously, and curls in closer. "...thank you. For the invitation, an'... alla this. I need t'... I dunno. Right now, 'turn my brain off' sounds good. But I, y'know..." He sighs, looking torn and a little guilty, and lifts his head to kiss Martin's lips, very softly. "You're too nice t' me."

Martin hmphs disapprovingly at the suggestion of cliff diving, and he gives Ren a little squeeze, as if to remind the kin gently that he is rather strong and severely opposed to the idea, so there. The kiss relaxes him some, and he returns it, sweetly and softly. "No such thing," he whispers, soulful eyes regarding Ren's with unabashed compassion. "It's okay to just turn your brain off for awhile," he whispers. "I'll take care of you."

Serendipity slides out of his somewhat damp coat, and then cuddles up to Martin again, very close and affectionate, and grateful. He hides his face against the blond's chest, and reaches back to guide the man's arms tighter around him. "...hope you weren't... hope you didn't have plans," he murmurs wryly.

Martin provides readily, gathering Ren up to him and snuggling the cloak around him carefully so not even a hint of cold breeze strays upon the kin's bare skin. "Waiting out the rain," he says mildly. "I don't want to head back to Millinocket in this, so I was just going to be here." He gazes up at the drizzly sky thoughtfully. "Maybe that's what I'm supposed to do today," he muses. "Be here."

"Maybe so," Ren agrees, still muffled. "I don't wanna go back. Dunno how I'm gonna pretend it's all okay an' make it not bother me... I'm still thinkin'." He lifts his head and meets Martin's eyes, plaintively. "Make me stop thinkin'?"

Martin says gravely, "Don't pretend it's okay, and don't pretend like it doesn't bother you. Let it bother you. Let it not be okay. Let it be whatever it is, Serendipity." That last question derails him though, and he gives Ren a sympathetic pout of his lips, placing a kiss on the man's brow as he whispers, "Shh, don't think. Just be here with me."