He wandered through the forests with neither rhyme nor reason, merely wandering for the sake of wandering and because he had nothing else to do. For the vast majority of his life, as far as he could tell, he had wandered. The small minority he did not care to recollect.
So he wandered. He wandered through the forests, occasionally coming to streams, or clearings, and a few times even to the coast of the ocean. But when he wandered, he always wandered alone. Never any companionship save the birds and the trees, never anyone to speak to.
But on that one day, in his wanderings, he heard a strange, mornful sound coming from some nearby place. It didn't sound like anything he had ever heard before, like nothing he had ever encountered.
Curious, he followed the sound. He ended up in a small clearing next to a stream with a rock partially jutting out into the water. On top of the rock was what seemed to be a hairy silver-blue mass of something.
Abruptly, the sounds stopped, and a melodic voice asked, "Who's there?"
He stood, silent, not sure what to make of this pile of hair.
Then, the top of the pile turned, revealing a very pretty, chalky white in skin colour, bright purple-eyed face, half a set of shoulders, and an arm, the latter two covered in a threadbare blue fabric. "Oh," she (for she it was) said. In her visible hand, there was a small, wooden object. "Where did you come from?" she asked.
He took a step forward, a step closer to her. "I don't know," he answered honestly.
She turned her head away from him, then turned her whole self around so that she faced him. She brushed her hair back behind her long, pointed ears and lightly jumped down from the rock on which she sat. She looked at him curiously for a long, long time, before she said, "You... are like me?"
He looked for an equally long time at her, distantly noticing that her tattered dress barely concealed her slender form. "I... am like you," he said, then looked her up and down again. "Like, but not the same..."
She laughed, a ringing sound that filled the clearing with an almost tangible feeling of joy. She smiled shyly at him. "No, not the same..."
There was a long pause then, and neither of the two said anything for a while. Finally, she opened her mouth, hesitated, and said, "Were you there when... when...?"
He looked away and closed his eyes as if with pain. "Everyone... became sick..." he whispered.
She too, looked away. "Everyone died..."
Then they looked deep into each other's eyes and said in unision, "I don't want to talk about it..."
"And now we are alone..." he whispered.
She took a few hesitant steps towards him, then quite literally fell into his arms. After she made no move to add any more distance between them, he gently wrapped his arms around her as she rested her head on his shoulder. "But..." she whispered back. "I've found you now... or you've found me... So... now we don't have to be alone..."
He looked down at her surprisedly. "You... would be with... me?"
"I would," she said, "if you would have me..."
"I'd like that..." he said. "But... who are you?"
"I'm Mhaiera," she said softly. "And you are?"
"You can call me Ghaleon."