Welcome to Gaia! ::

It was bright in the Barrens, just like usual. Davvyd did his best not to spend too much time out here, but sometimes it was unavoidable. He'd just gotten back from a trek is Mistfruit Forest, but almost as soon as he'd set hoof in Homewood, he'd felt a pull. While perhaps he hadn't been the most dedicated to his training as a healer, it didn't mean he hadn't had a surprising amount of practice with his gift. It seemed like every outing he'd been on something had befallen a companion. Even Golyath once!

Goylath let out a long yawn, he'd been snooze on Davvyd's back. The little faery seemed to enjoy the sun. "Well bud, do you think we're ready? To be adept?" He could feel Goylath's emotions peak a little.

"Of course. What's Grandfather Tree gonna do? Tell ya you haven't seen enough stuff? You have. We've been all the way to Mistfruit Forest, and back! And to the Bog. And to the Ruins. Seen lottsa stuff. Time for more magic. Don't see how you can do much more without more power."

Davvyd grinned. It was true! They had been a lot of places. And seen a lot of pretty faces. That second doe from the Ruins in particular ... Davvyd often thought about how pretty she'd been. Hadn't seen her since, though. Too bad. Really, he'd hardly had time to tell any does about his jaunt to Mistfruit Forest and the strange dam before the pull had become too much. Well, maybe they'd be more receptive to the words of an adept, anyhow. His grin got larger as Grandfather Tree broke the horizon. His pace sped up and Golyath took to the air, sailing ahed.

Davvyd shivered. He stretched and opened his eyes. He didn't remember every feeling cold like this. Hot, sure. But cold? Where on Vykeli was he? A fluffy white snowflake drifted down, and settled on his snout. He blinked. What was this place? To add to the cold he felt a strange pull in his mind. Even the air here felt weird. Like it was too thin, there wasn't enough stuff in it. And it burned his lungs with cold. He swung his head around, looking for Golyath. Golyath was never far. But look as hard as Davvyd could, he couldn't see the faery.

Then the pull in his mind made more sense. Golyath wasn't here. The pull was the bond, being strained. That settled a strange feeling in Davvyd's stomach. He didn't particularly like being alone. How did you impress does without a wingman, after all? He rolled back up to his feet, and made to look around further. The white stuff was all over the ground. It was cold, it clung to things in drifts, blown by the win. He wondered if this white stuff was the snow that Fulsome had talked his ear off about. Where on Vykeli was he if he was standing in snow? A long way from home, that was for sure.

He glanced upwards, trying to orient himself and was greeted by soaring peaks. Also capped in white. Was he in the mountains you could sometimes see from the Barrens? What the heck was he doing all the way out here? He shook his head. It hardly mattered. Golyath wasn't here and he was pretty sure there weren't any pretty does out here either. Maybe he'd been sent out here as part of his training or something. Something about a healer having to be adaptable. Davvyd wasn't personally interested in adapting to the cold.

Davvyd shook himself again, scattering the snow that had settled into his mane and across his back. He glanced up again, and started pushing through the drifted snow. While it felt light when it landed on you, it seemed like once it was stacked on the ground it was a different matter. Every step pushed back against Davvyd. He snorted. This was going to be a real chore, clearly.

Davvyd was especially thankful for his bond right then. It pulled him forward, onwards ... downwards. Without that feeling, he wondered if he'd even know where to go. He knew some nouls could navigate by the stars, but he'd never learned much of anything like that. And he didn't have a map, or seemingly anything in the way of supplies. This clearly wasn't going to be a walk through Homewood. Davvyd shivered again. Supplies or not, it was time to get moving. He knew, at least in theory, what cold could do to a creature. He put one foot in front of the other, walking towards where his bond tugged him. He hoped Golyath was alright. And somewhere warm. Davvyd could take the cold, but the small faery couldn't. His solace that the bond felt so strained, so far away. Maybe his buddy would be waiting for him, back in Homewood. To welcome him back. The thought drove him on wards, even through the snow.