"Y-yer goin' back?", Applejack asked.
Anton nodded, rolling a bit of the "Apple Sauce" over in his spoon as he did so. He and the members of the apple family had gathered around the table for yet another breakfast. Since the Xenos had been rather polite to him, using this mealtime as a means of giving him any instructions or noteworthy data points, he figured that... he at least owed them that small bit of kindness to make his intention to leave at the same time. He was sick to his stomach when he talked about it to himself last night, but he figured that it'd avoid any issues later on.
"Yes", Anton said. "I'm fine; your doctor said that himself a few days ago. With the winter cycle winding down, I shouldn't be at any risk of freezing again. It's not like I'm going to stay in that room."
"Ya could", Big Mac said.
Applejack said, "Yeah! Ya could help us wit' the harvest and around the farm! Ah mean, ya helped us, and we'd be returnin' the favor."
Anton blinked, not really knowing what to say. This... Xenos was being legitimate. That she wanted him to stay. ...What was her angle?
Before he could open his mouth to respond, Bright Mac did so for him. "Applejack. Ah know you like him, and he has been a help to us. However, he can make his own decisions. Ah don't rightly agree wit' what Aquila wants ta do, but... As an older colt, he can make that choice."
"Besides, you've returned my... K-kindn-ness", Anton said, biting back bile as he said it. "My life for that of your fathers. No, it's fine. Even if I were to remain here, I would need to recover my equipment first."
"Oh", Applejack said.
Granny Smith looked up from feeding rations to Apple Bloom to say, "She is right 'bout you comin' ta help us, though. Yer welcome ta any time. We could always use another pair 'a legs come Apple Buckin' season, and ya could always make yerself useful in tha' meantime."
Bright Mac nodded. "If yer fine wit' it a'course. We could even pay ya, if ya want."
Anton finished polishing off his apple sauce, before standing. "I'll consider it. I should be going; I wouldn't want to interrupt anything with you. T-th-th... Tha-nk you."
+++++~+++++
Anton trudged through the snow, the cold embrace of it doing little to slow the steady tread of an Imperial Guardsman. The trees were covered with snow just as much as the ground, and he did occasionally have to brush some fallen snow off of him, though this only temporarily slowed his stride. Fortunately, he was covered with a cloak that Granny Smith had made for him, and kept warm by the covered plate of Apple Fritters held under him by one of his mutated legs and his belt.
He slowed his stride somewhat, thinking about what that meant. Thankful for the gifts of Xenos; the Commissar would've shot him on the spot. He'd deserve nothing less, too. Almost as soon as he was out of sight of the Apple family farm he ran headlong into a tree. This time, he was thankful for the weather on this Xenos world, as the snow clinging to parts of the truck prevented his damnable horn from penetrating too deep into the wood.
With that thought in his head, he wondered where exactly he was. Veyland Sinstre, where he knew he was last, was located near Elysia, in the Segmentum Solar. Whatever foul magics that the Heretics within House Lysimicus must've cast clearly sent him somewhere else. Where though? It couldn't have been too far, as he couldn't've entered the warp without being consumed by the horrors of the Dark Gods. So, if that was the case, how did these Xenos still live, having not been found by an Imperial fleet?
His mind was drawn away by one of his marks on the tree drew his attention. He stepped off the path, following the slashes in the bark of the trees, slipping around deeper sections in the snow and the occasional rocks poking out of the snow. Finally, he made his way to the bank of the river. Or, rather, the length of ice that ran over the river.
He grumbled, staring at the ice as if it were a servant of the Dark Gods. He hadn't ever interacted with proper ice on Elysia, but in his brief time with the substance before his bout with Hypothermia, he had come to despise it. However, he had his own secret weapon against it.
He made his way along the bank until he could no longer see the clearing his bunker was connected to. He finally found his destination; a cluster of small boulders that formed a waterfall when the river wasn't frozen. He drew his sword, using the back of the blade to scrape the layer of frost off of the rocks. He put it back in its scabbard, climbing up onto the nearest one and hopping from one rock to another. He reached the other side, before following it back to the clearing and making his way up to the half-buried barricade.
He yanked it out of the deep snow, resting it partially on the snow to prevent it from sinking back into the bank. He trudged up the hill, the same collection of rocks and small bumps in the hill throwing him off balance. Finally, he reached the mostly filled-in trench, which was only identifiable by the few inches of wooden slots sticking up out of the snow. His scowl only deepened when he saw the state of his bunker.
At first glance, it appeared to be more-or-less intact. Sure, snow coated every surface of the exterior and a decent amount was built up on the roof, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it could've been. That worst-case scenario was realized when he came around to the entrance, where it was revealed that a part of the roof had caved in. While it wasn't as thickly packed as the snow outside, everything inside was still coated in a fine layer of the white substance.
He rubbed his head, before smiling. "Thank you, my Emperor. I accept your tribulations and your testing of my faith. Though I have strayed from your light, I will strive to return to it. May you watch over all faithful servants, and may your enemies die so that humanity may accept its rightful place among the Stars." He continued to smile as he entered the bunker, tearing the sleeping bag and packs of supplies from the snow. He was certain that other items remained buried, but he would have to return to them when he cleared it out.
He walked over to the cave, stepping over the half-buried fur tarp. He re-hung the section that had fallen off, before stepping inside with an activated Lamp Pack. The snow cut off quickly as he went deeper inside, it not even reaching the scattered, rust-eaten bits of metal that had broken off the Valkerie.
He rolled out the sleeping bag and pulled a few of the supplies out of the pack, also laying them out to dry. He went back to the cave mouth, grabbing several logs from the pile he had put just inside the mouth of the cave. He carried them back to a small dip in the cave floor, laying them out and putting some tinder on them. Soon, he had a roaring fire, and lay down on the sleeping bag. He didn't sleep; he simply laid there, staring up at the lights flickering off of the ceiling of the cave, contemplating his next move.