[ORP] The Cold - Day

[Rejam]

By day the northern reaches have a distinctly festive air. The snow comes down in fat flakes, and there is enough dry land here that no one is forced to brave the stinging, frigid waters ever-present elsewhere in the swamp. The sunlight brings relief from the brutality of the night, although the snow remains, a crisp blanket smudging the tangled outlines of branches and vines.

This brief escape from the struggles after dark is enough to set the heart alight, for a time. Games are invented to take advantage of the strange new environment, and songs are sung, stories told, romances made. Some have become experts at kicking great clods of snow at their neighbors, and spontaneous play-battles break out at all hours of daylight. Dancing competitions and races, both to entertain and to stay warm, are arranged at regular intervals and teem with happy contestants whose bodies steam and whose breath clouds thickly when a winner is declared.

When there is a break in the clouds and the snow, some braver than others venture away towards the unforgiving borderlands to strain at the hills and wonder what will come from over them this time. No word has come down from the valley where the Kiokote live; surely the winter has driven them to stay put, without braving the dangerous journey no matter what the news might be.

But something must come, after all. Although the daytime is a time of joyful spirits and idle games, the night is vicious, and the morning is full of the memories of savage dreams.  

[theCorniest]

The cold had crept into the swamp, a slow but deadly march that had already claimed some young lives. In the darkness, the wind howled and bit and sang an elegy, but each morning the sun rose, banishing the deep, deadly chill of night. The sunbeams that filtered through the boughs above and the minty thicket below warmed the hide of a lightly sleeping buck. The warmth and light woke him gently, and as his eyes eased open, their green glow was visible even in the dawn's light.




For several days, Wildflower Breeze had been thinking far and far back into the swamp's memories - a power that had been granted to him with the Motherfather's blessing - to find a reason for this blasted cold. The memories he found were strange and confused - the visions of many creatures and kin, a divided and merged memory of many that was difficult to sift through without being overwhelmed. The dreams growing in his mind each night hinted more readily at the answers he sought, but did nothing to ease his thoughts.

Rolling up onto his narrow legs, Breeze stretched out the last of the stiffness the cold left in him, and sauntered out into the sunlight. He fancied company rather than meditation today, and had a hunch that he would find it - in kin drifting northward to meet their visions, as he and his son had done so long ago.  

[Jun D]

Rouge's dreams were always painted red. From her very beginning, the dark, subtle beauty of blood upon sand, then, driving her away from those beloved sands into the glorious Swamp, lush, wanton dreams of blood across green, wet and lurid. These days, she had started dreaming of blood across stark snow.

And it was the most beautiful she had seen yet.

Therefore, she was in an exceedingly good mood as she'd unfolded from that satisfying vision as the sun crept skyward, waking her ragtag pack of sand-and-other dogs with a ringing, "Good morning, darlings!" Even the harsh cold lately could not dampen her merriment - even at its worst, she'd felt, the Swamp was more hospital than much of the desert, and what was a little cold to live through if it afforded the most gorgeous canvas she could ever hope to work upon? She would find a nice, wide, untouched swathe of white today, and she would - oh, hold up. There was a little gathering here already, and she never passed up a chance to poke her nose somewhere it didn't belong.

 

[Rejam]

Fix is cold and he doesn’t like it. Dog is thrown across his shoulders and provides some measure of heat—seems totally unconcerned about the cold, in fact—and looks, Fix thinks, rather stylish, like a living accessory.

Fix being Fix, however, he is attempting to put a brave face on his discomfort, and has spent much of the morning exhausting himself playing a game of hide and seek with a gaggle of colts and fillies, in which he managed the spectacular coup de gras of walking backwards in his own hoofprints to hide his tracks and therefore convincing all of themthat wings traced on his sides became real when he said a magic spell that allowed him to fly. While a thoroughly satisfying game of lies (and what better game was there?), the novelty had worn off for the children and he had gone to seek out other friends. Luckily Fix is a Kin with an abundance of these, and so he thinks nothing of gamboling up alongside Rouge when he spots her and touching his warm nose to her neck in friendly greeting, a silent hello to avoid interrupting her, should she be in the midst of a conversation. It’s an old, Fix-y symbol: are you getting into trouble? Can I come too? I’ll just watch. He eyes the dogs askance but is too polite to say anything. She probably knows of his natural distrust of dogs and even moreso of cats—he’d spent the entire journey over the hills avoiding the caravan’s dogs and fennecs as if afraid of getting their fleas.

-*-

Salt has found a wintergreen thicket thick with frost that has turned the leaves brittle, and she is grazing it absently, picky; she has grown thin with winter’s approach but the bony look of it suits her. She has always had a somewhat moribund attitude and for the moment simply has the appearance to match. It is from the corner of her eye that she sees Wildflower Breeze—sees the familiar mottled brown and red, and remembers Springtime. He looks distinctly… different. But unmistakable. The taste of the mint on hertongue grows entangled with memory and seems to taste of bitter drink taken from a turtleshell, all fermented fruit; the easy warmth of the festival drifts across her mind and she feels uncharacteristically nostalgic.

She straightens, and the cloud of breath that drifts from her nostrils and lips is made sharp by the mint, and sweet. She moves off towards the stag with her usual jaunty, dismissive trot, pretending not to notice him while attempting to catch his attention. If he ignores her, that’s good. It’ll give her something to complain about, and Lord knows she can never have enough of that. But if he doesn’t—if he sees her—so much the better. It will give her something to take her mind off her own unease, and perhaps the opportunity to channel it into the more familiar territory of cynicism and snark.  

[Ruriska]

Indeed, many of his fellow Kiokote in the valley were hunkered down for the winter. Herds and singles all pressed together for warmth. But Watch Me was not one of them. His own kind held little interest to him and he had spent most of this bruising cold winter marching through the swamp in an attempt to keep warm. When the dreams came, he followed them, not just from curiosity and need, but from sheer delight at the thought of adventure. This would be marvellous. Oh yes, the dreams were not that nice and he had felt a little queasy that other night… but the future was going to be so very interesting.

As he travelled towards the north that day the bright buck saw figures in the distance and hoping for some good company, he increased his pace. As he grew closer, details revealed themselves... oh was that… an Acha! No wait, two Acha. After that realisation that nothing else registered in his mind at all. There could have been ten walking trees having a conversation about the MotherFather's gromming habits and he would have paid no mind.

Watch Me raced straight towards Rouge and Fix, skidding to a halt alongside them and exclaiming loudly, ‘My, you are both brilliant! Oh look, oh look, doggies! That one is even see-through!” He was hungry and still rather cold, but he could not be happier with his current company and he beamed at them both with what he thought was his most winning smile.

[Sorry Jun, couldn’t help myself. xD]  

[Tygress Dream]

The draw of the northern reaches could not be denied; Give Up Forever felt it awake and asleep. Near feverish with need she had made her way through the freezing swamp until she'd reached this point. With so many other kin gathering she felt it time to rest and gather her thoughts.

Give had never seen so many others. Brief encounters had been the extent of her social interaction. Listening to the storytellers, the young doe was enjoying the novel experience of learning in more detail what she knew in her heart. Although it wasn't the something that drove her life, this gathering was filling a part of the void.

She woke from haunted dreams and shook them off. It seemed everyone was having such dreams, she thought sighing as she stood and stretched out legs stiff from the cold. Surrounded by others in various states of wakefulness, Give still felt very alone. Her traveling companion a frog named Swallow the Light had gone into hibernation rather than undertake the journey north. She knew his hiding place well, but still she feared for him and being so far there was no way to check on him now. She took note of an acha doe and her dogs -- a hard group not to notice against the white of snow and ice -- and envied the doe her more resilient furry companions.

Shaking herself Give stepped away from her resting place and decided to see if she could learn anything more from the newest arrivals.  

[Rejam]

Abruptly and a bit belatedly because her player is an idiot who can't read things properly on the phone, Salt becomes aware that another doe has already sought Wildflower Breeze out for a conversation. And a striking one, more's the pity. Salt being Salt, she decides the appropriate course is to assume the worst and act accordingly. She drifts away while maintaining what she believes must be a "look what you're missing out on" pose, looking for someone to publicly flirt with.  

[Appeal]

If it wasn't bad enough that Forgotten Feathers hadn't the slightest idea where she was but it was also quite cold here! It certainly didn't seem fair, but it wasn't like she could really turn around and go home. She could try, but the chances were more likely that she'd just circle back around a couple trees and end up in this exact same spot just more tired than before. She let out a small sigh, looking around her curiously. At least there were other kin here, maybe she'd meet some friends!

"Hello hello," she said to no one in particular, looking back and forth eagerly.

 

[SilverShieldwolf]

Why did the dragonfly have to wake him so early. It was cold and the intense noise from its wings was just wrong so early. Grumpily, White River flicked his tail away from his legs. "Yes...Yes. I am up and moving, see?" He looked at his back where Speed Wings stood with its wings buzzing. White still couldn't figure out what gender the little bug was, but he almost felt it was female. Always demanding something of him.

Yawning and moving slowly to clear his mind of the dreams. Something was wrong with them. Shaking the feeling off, White went looking for a few friends or to make some, as it seemed a few had went past his 'den' for the time being. His steps staggered a little, but he made his way to the group. It was surprising to see the Acha and Kio about in this weather. Looking at the group, he grinned as there was one green doe seemed to be looking for someone. He walked up to Salt, "Well my day just brightened up some."  

[Rejam]

"Funny," drawls the doe. "Seems like a dark cloud just passed over mine. Strange weather we're having."  

[fluorescein]

Albatross clearly did not understand birds' migratory process, but when one lived in a swamp there really was no need for it. How to live with the snow, now that was a pressing concern. How to not fall down or how to slow down your gait. Now that she had to adjust but only after many, many painful lessons and bumps. But she was purple and purple was the color of many of her bruises. Idiot proof camoflauge it was. Her hair was another story. Her hair took on an almost frightful flare full of iced spikes that sang its own musical notes in the cool wind. She could be heard a mile away. There would be not stealth attacks to cull the swamp in this mode. Plus, she couldn't even effectively move AND cover her tracks. She was out of her element. She was a fish out of the water. It kind of sucked, this stark season. Speckled sunlight was no match for the declining temperature, but Albatross did not notice the extra weight. Once again, she thanked the Swamp for not giving her any backspines where the snow might pool in spots. Yonder north was a sumptuous visual feast. Revelry, laughter and her little bird friend were just ahead. Veering to the right, her entrance and planned path was interrupted by two beings barreling into her. Snowy glitz rained down from her crown. //


To onlookers it was obvious what was happening: a see-through eaglehound and ghost owlcat were playing a game. Touch where the snow has fallen. But seeing how the eaglehound was transparent, that allowed for the more opportunistic owlcat to get in a few good extracurricular jabs at its lazy opponent. Fiend didn't correct the spectators. His owlcat was just an a*****e who did not take kindly to the cold. With that said, they briefly looked up to see who they crashed into before running off with nary an apology.

Acha, Kiokote and kimeti were ahead. Winding his body through the groups, Fiend ran, intermingling with them, but always stopping short of joining the throngs. The ghost owlcat, Goosebumps, enjoyed spraying snow at the kin they passed. //

Albatross just stared at the retreating images of a wispy-shaped owlcat chasing after a see-through eaglehound. Up, way up, a tree branch unloaded its snow, jostling Albatross out of her stunned reverie. Cold, oh so cold, she shook it off, continuing her journey to Forgotten Feathers. She would share with the other doe her dream of large, mean looking birds. She slid up to the white doe and tapped Forgotten Feathers' flank with her tail in a customary greeting. "Hello, hello."  

[hybridic]

((Fox is heading for Fix, Rouge, and Watch Me. I think that's everyone in that little group, right?))

"Cold cold cold!" was Playing Fox's surprisingly short pronouncement on the situation as he pranced his way over to the small group of acha, dogs, and kiokote. His eyes fix on Rouge, sensing her to be the leader of the small pack of hounds, and he does a little traipsing bow to her in greeting, his butt raising comically high in the air and wiggling around a bit as if in jest. When he raises his eyes, however, his gaze is serious, though whether or not this is a mask is unclear.

"You're lucky to have such a herd of beasts to keep you warm during this unseasonable weather...though I suppose that one doesn't provide much heat." He nods to the spectral hound at this last comment, eyeing it with interest for a few moments before turning back to the rest of the group.

"My own little dog doesn't is too small to be much help on that front himself, the daft little thing," Playing Fox continues, looking around dramatically as if he has lost something. "Where has he gotten to, dear me," he stage-whispers, letting out a strange whistling sound through his teeth. "Fool Dance, you little hooligan, get over here!"

Promptly a dark streak comes flying out of some nearby bushes and circles around Playing Fox's hooves a few times before leaping up to land on his back with a soft pad of his paws. The fennec tiptoes up his master's spine and drapes himself across the acha's shoulders, his floofy tail wrapping around the golden neck like a scarf. "Though he does make a rather dashing accessory, don't you think?" The question is directed at no one in particular.  

[Jun D]

The gesture was so familiarly Fix-y that she hadn't even looked to confirm her new companion was indeed he before beginning her excitable spiel, "I just got here myself so I don't know what's going on, but there're so many Kin here, it must be something good! Let's go and - what are you doing with that thing around your neck?!" The unexpected sight of the skinny creature when she'd finally turned halted all other thought - it looked like prey to her, but, patently alive and thoroughly at ease, evidently was not to Fix. "Are you...wearing it?!"

This anomaly so arrested her, it was a moment before she registered the new arrivals around them. "Hallo, hallo, Fox!" she quickly made up for the oversight, "hallo," (handsome, she noted, filing the thought away for a more appropriate moment, like when she wasn't trying to found out why Fix was wearing food) "Kiokote cousin!"

Her dogs, save timid Sunshine, were less amiss: Kisses had already spent the past minute dividing his happy, yappy attention between Playing Fox and the interesting Kiokote newcomer (Fix was summarily ignored, the sandy hound had enough experience with that one to well learn he did not appreciate his breed), as Ribcage gave a few slow, wary wags of his spectral tail in response to their gaze.  

[theCorniest]

Facing the north, Breeze sighed in response to the pale-pink and black doe's inquiry. He gave her what wisdom he could; "I have seen much," he stated, "and I have seen nothing at all." Rolling his eyes and turning his head to her, he added, "It's all been about that cryptic, too. All we can do is wait, it seems."

Something in the background behind his current conversation partner drew his eye - a particular shade of green, the familiar swagger of a doe he'd once known in the previous Spring. It was not hard to pick her out among the gathered kin, not for him - a smile crept to is lips unbidden. Briefly, he turned his focus back to the doe before him. "I'm afraid you must excuse me - someone I must speak with," he muttered, and slipped around her to seek out the familiar face.

By the time he has her in his sights again, he is baffled to see her speaking with another buck - or, in the very least, being spoken to by another buck. He grins to hear her succinct reply - Salt has such a way with words. For the moment, he hangs back and watches, waiting for an opportune moment to speak.