¤ 46th of Summer, 513 AV ¤
Rysmarin grinned up into the late morning aurora. He loved those gorgeous lights, constantly shining their beautiful hues over Skyglow Vintana. A slight sparkling caught his eye, and he noticed a sized icicle hanging nearby. Flailing about briefly for something to throw and knock the glorious piece of ice down, he quickly settled upon gathering up snow to toss at it. Finding the infuriatingly powdery substance insufficient to the task after a single, unsatisfying toss, he decided to try actually packing it, as he'd seen the Vani children do countless times over.
It was impossible to call the resultant mass of snow a real snowball since it wasn't anywhere close to spherical, but for the Kelvic's purposes, it would do. He looked up at the icicle, just out of his reach, then lobbed the snow-blob at it. The explosion of snow on the bark of a nearby tree was impressive, but no where near Rysmarin's original target. He furrowed his brow, then tried again.
A few frustrating, unlucky tosses later, the golden eyed Kelvic had the packing of the snowball down, at the very least. A few of the wayward packages of pure white snow had found their way to the backs of one or two of the local Vani, who had glared at him before being forgotten and presumably bustling off in a huff. Not one to get discouraged by a few unfortunate outcomes, Rysmarin growled as he packed one more snowball. He packed and rolled it between his nearly numb fingertips until he was satisfied that it was truly spherical
He set his eyes upon the tantalizingly shining spear of ice above, mocking him with its glittering glow. The naïve Kelvic bared his teeth at the perceived slight, then reared back before pitching the ball of ice crystals at the offending icicle. It struck the branch that the piece of ice hung from, shacking it and those nearby... Which, with the combined effect of a wayward gust of bone chilling wind, had the unfortunate effect of dumping a massive pile of snow on anyone unfortunate enough to be standing below.
Namely, Rysmarin.
After a few moments and more than a few wary glances at the lonesome tree that had just wrought vengeance for its snow-blemished bark, a pale hand emerged from the white pile. Triumphantly grasped within its fist was an icicle the size of a small dagger, still shining with the late(r) morning light.
Rysmaring crawled up from the depths of the snowy hell he'd made for himself, though he hardly felt the cold sting of the snow on his exposed face... Now, his eyes were focused on his (admittedly meager) prize. He propped himself up on his elbows, then looked up to the aurora once more, this time through the almost perfectly pure icicle.
His triumphant grin broadened as the lights sparkled within it. Sure, the blasted thing was cold beyond knowing on the pale skin of his palm, but what was a little discomfort? It was often worth it when such a view as this one was involved! Satisfied, he stuck the broad end of the narrow ice-dagger in his mouth, having worked up a thirst in his efforts to dislodge it.
Having not realized where he'd wandered or spent the last few minutes until just then, he decided to take a look around now with the icicle now comically frozen to his lips and tongue. Realizing where he was, his grin broadened so far one might think it would break past the sides of his face. He was in his third favorite vintana! The second, of course, being his home of Snowsong, and the absolute, indisputable first, Winterflame.
Sure, he was a bit biased since, even after he'd eaten breakfast at home, he was a Kelvic, and thus, always hungry. After all, who in all of Mizahar could compete with the delicious food made there? He grinned like an idiot around his icicle, nearly drooling (save for the fact that it, too, would freeze) at the heavily distracting thought thought.
It still hadn't occurred to him that he had yet to excavate himself from the snow.
It was impossible to call the resultant mass of snow a real snowball since it wasn't anywhere close to spherical, but for the Kelvic's purposes, it would do. He looked up at the icicle, just out of his reach, then lobbed the snow-blob at it. The explosion of snow on the bark of a nearby tree was impressive, but no where near Rysmarin's original target. He furrowed his brow, then tried again.
A few frustrating, unlucky tosses later, the golden eyed Kelvic had the packing of the snowball down, at the very least. A few of the wayward packages of pure white snow had found their way to the backs of one or two of the local Vani, who had glared at him before being forgotten and presumably bustling off in a huff. Not one to get discouraged by a few unfortunate outcomes, Rysmarin growled as he packed one more snowball. He packed and rolled it between his nearly numb fingertips until he was satisfied that it was truly spherical
He set his eyes upon the tantalizingly shining spear of ice above, mocking him with its glittering glow. The naïve Kelvic bared his teeth at the perceived slight, then reared back before pitching the ball of ice crystals at the offending icicle. It struck the branch that the piece of ice hung from, shacking it and those nearby... Which, with the combined effect of a wayward gust of bone chilling wind, had the unfortunate effect of dumping a massive pile of snow on anyone unfortunate enough to be standing below.
Namely, Rysmarin.
After a few moments and more than a few wary glances at the lonesome tree that had just wrought vengeance for its snow-blemished bark, a pale hand emerged from the white pile. Triumphantly grasped within its fist was an icicle the size of a small dagger, still shining with the late(r) morning light.
Rysmaring crawled up from the depths of the snowy hell he'd made for himself, though he hardly felt the cold sting of the snow on his exposed face... Now, his eyes were focused on his (admittedly meager) prize. He propped himself up on his elbows, then looked up to the aurora once more, this time through the almost perfectly pure icicle.
His triumphant grin broadened as the lights sparkled within it. Sure, the blasted thing was cold beyond knowing on the pale skin of his palm, but what was a little discomfort? It was often worth it when such a view as this one was involved! Satisfied, he stuck the broad end of the narrow ice-dagger in his mouth, having worked up a thirst in his efforts to dislodge it.
Having not realized where he'd wandered or spent the last few minutes until just then, he decided to take a look around now with the icicle now comically frozen to his lips and tongue. Realizing where he was, his grin broadened so far one might think it would break past the sides of his face. He was in his third favorite vintana! The second, of course, being his home of Snowsong, and the absolute, indisputable first, Winterflame.
Sure, he was a bit biased since, even after he'd eaten breakfast at home, he was a Kelvic, and thus, always hungry. After all, who in all of Mizahar could compete with the delicious food made there? He grinned like an idiot around his icicle, nearly drooling (save for the fact that it, too, would freeze) at the heavily distracting thought thought.
It still hadn't occurred to him that he had yet to excavate himself from the snow.
