I painted your room at midnight; ANY

[Ianto]

Slowly, very slowly, he was working his way back into the Tundra. He was relearning the nooks and crannies he had spent so much time in before. His dark eyes traveled over childhood haunts and then later places where he spent time as an adult to reflect or to just be by himself. He was pleased to see most of them were still hidden. A few had found their ways into his little havens but he can only smile, after all, everyone needed their own time away from others.

His hooves crunched through the snow. It had not melted and then iced over again enough for it to be a hard crust he could walk on. He thought of flying, but the urge to work hard at something kept him to the ground. So he wandered, moving here and there until he decided he had had enough.

A white fox reappeared where he had been and it's tiny legs and body were able to make its way across the snow so much easier. He practically purred (can foxes purr?) as he ran quickly across the snow. He chased small prey here and there into the snow, but he didn't harm any, not now. That would be a possibility later if the winter got too bad and he couldn't find enough food.

He panted when he stopped, taking a breather as he sat down atop a small overlook that allowed him to look where he could see across the Tundra. It was nothing but flat lands and snow everywhere right now. But his lips curled into a smile regardless.

Ianto

Nothing burns like the cold.

Also, this is horrible so forgive me, but all the words are awkward today. Plus, any posts suck to write. <3

[Patchouli]

Patchouli

Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi

It was hard that first winter in the lands of ice and danger. It was hard but it had passed and here he was, still struggling to get his bearings. Patchouli had found several nice places to cozy up in, one in particular that he frequented quite often, especially now as winter approached to reach its sharp fingers through his coat to his skin. Aside from a meager coat he was not too hard off, the cave where the Chamber's king had left a bubbling pool of magma had seen him through- of this he was certain. The palomino was already doing better than last year admittedly but his coat was still nothing like the thick burden that others wore who had spent so much more time living in the icy reaches of Beqanna. Still, he supposed there was little else to complain on but the weather and Gods knew there was no one listening to that plight.

Today is bearable, the season not yet in full swing, the howling winds absent from the clear skies and calm day. Skies light the world from an overcast sun and yet the reflection off the snow burns as bright as anything. He pauses now and again, sooty nose bent towards the earth, lipping around drifts for rough vegetation to fill his belly. That too had taken some getting used to, food was hard to come by here and what was available was as rough and tough as the landscape and the men. For now he tugged at yellowing tundra grasses, pulling the plant at the root and sheering it off as best he could from the icy ground. It was not a good thing to be picky and he had received more than one mouthful of dirt in his quest for sustenance. 

When he takes all there is to have of this particular patch his golden head rises once more, breathing deep the cold mountain air. Against the backdrop he can see slight movement against a rise, some sort of animal before it blends into the landscape. Patch hasn't seen much of the native folk, a few hares, a moose once but certainly not much to write home about- if he ever could. Maybe that is why he slowly creeps forward, taking care of his feet and where they fall, avoiding the snapping of twigs sure to cause the creature fright. As he nears he catches another peek, short pointed ears telling him it was no hare at all. This was something different, a fox. He stood a ways off, head outstretched, nostrils flared in his curiosity. "Hello little fellow." The words barely audible as hushed as they are and as far away as he stands, but it feels right to say them nevertheless.

it is better to conquer yourself, than to win a thousand battles

[Ianto]

He did not remember those first winters. He had been nothing but gangly legs and baby fuzz. Later he only remembered the biting cold when the winters dropped far below what they were often. He has been hungry and starving, cold and freezing. And he has lived through it all, sometimes because of his own sheer determination. So far this winter was proving to be as normal as it could possibly be. He was thankful for that.

He curled his fluffy tail around his legs, his ears flickering back and forth as he caught any and all sounds. Horses are not quiet by nature and so while he was careful to not step on any branches or other loud noises that might give him away and scare off this 'wild' critter, he still made noises. The scuff of a hoof against a small rock, the crunch of the dry grasses beneath his hooves. All of it made tiny noises that Ianto could hear.

So his large ears flickered backwards, lingering on the stallion and when he crooned softly to the little fox, Ianto almost laughed aloud. Undeciding as to whether he should just let the poor stallion know now that he was not a real life fox or if he should allow him his ignorance, he wasn't sure.

He sits still until he decides, turning those big eyes upon the stallion and smiling a fox smile at him. When he stands and stretches, a step forwards bring forth his horse form. His body elongating and stretching until he reaches his 17 hh form. A smile still curling his lips. "Sorry friend. I am Ianto." He says, introducing himself.

Ianto

Nothing burns like the cold.

[Patchouli]

Patchouli

Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi

Each step might have been a harsh rap against the fox’s door but Patchouli was under the notion that he was quite stealthy, ignorant as that may be. Against stray rocks and the crunch of snow it seems he would not harbor any element of surprise, instead the animal watched him as he approached but it did not run off- success. When he offered low tones it did not start or scatter, instead it gave him a grin but foxes don’t smile do they? Writing it off as a trick of the sun’s reflection off the snow he blinks, shrugs and watches with quiet curiosity. 

It holds his attention with agile movement, stepping forward and for a moment he thinks it might be just as curious about him. He is wrong, so very wrong. With a placement of forefoot against snow it is changing, melting, molding and Patchouli watches in surprise, concerned surprise, unable to move. As the fox molds into something bigger, something more equine Patchouli finds his senses, his legs- he starts. His golden head tosses, sending flaxen tendrils of hair swaying, his legs jerk, propelling him upwards as he rears in his fright. What a mess.

With all due respect it is not every day, or ever that Patchouli has had the pleasure of meeting a shifter. His reaction is wild but he manages not to knock into anyone or anything, reeling back with a few shifting steps. There was now a large horse where the furry fox had been, one with dun colored splashes against a white backdrop, one with wings. Mother would have liked him very much, Patchouli bit his cheek as he calmed, wide eyes slowly softening as the kind greeting passed through the air to his ears.

The man seemed older, definitely much taller but he was obviously a brother so the speckled palomino could do nothing but apologize. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you could- sorry I didn’t know.” At least he could admit that he had undoubtedly overreacted on some level. “Hello Ianto, I’m Patchouli, I’ve just recently assimilated myself into the ranks and brotherhood.” A dip of the head and a smile. No matter how frightened he might have been at first, or how embarrassed he was now- Patchouli always sounded happy.

it is better to conquer yourself, than to win a thousand battles

[Ianto]

Well, he wasn't wrong. Ianto was curious about him. But a regular fox would have probably ran into a den at the sight of creature so much bigger than it was. Ianto is still as the other stallion starts at his sudden appearance, although the rueful smile on his lips is another apology. He had not meant to scare the poor boy, but he didn't want there to be lies between his brothers and him, if there did not need to be. While it was not really common knowledge he could shift, he did not try to keep it a secret. It had been handy in some situations though.

He waits until he is settled. "I apologize again my friend. I didn't want there to be hard feelings had I continued in my fox form." He smiles, still standing still, although his tail swished lazily. His wings were tucked against his furry sides. The only one of his Brotherhood scars clearly visible were the claw marks that crossed his eye. The patch of lichen and the faded crown both hidden beneath his thick fur.

He smiles at the apology, clearly not in the least bit offended. "All is well Patchouli. My own fault I suppose. I forget that not everyone knows all the magics that run rampart in this world." He knows, has seen some of it and isn't surprised by what he sees now. He knows that there almost anything that can happen in Beqanna. "Welcome to the Tundra. How are you finding it so far?"

Ianto

Nothing burns like the cold.

[Patchouli]

Patchouli

Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi

Oh how shameful, he looked a childish fool but there was no saving face now. Of course he hadn’t really been one to recognize something for what it was, though he had seen the worlds gifts he never presumed, perhaps that was a mistake. Here he stood, receiving apologies for his own numb-skulledness and shaking his head in return to the shifting male. “No, no it’s okay, I understand now.” Flaxen mane splaying and forelock falling against his eyes. “Maybe I should be more observant, or prepared at least.” It takes a while for the proverbial blush to fade from his face, standing still and looking thoughtfully at the winged man before him. 

Was it strange to be another animal? Did it hurt? What was it like? Once the surprise ebbed from his golden head he could only think of a million questions that he did not dare speak. He had already made himself a fool, even if only partially and he did not want to seem even more dense by badgering his new acquaintance with his nonsense.

“Oh yes, well,” What to say, what to say? “I suppose I find it cold. It’s nothing like I’ve known before anyways, and it is… quiet.” Simple enough but it lacked depth and he wasn’t sure what sort of response the older man was expecting- the Tundra was a harsh land, that’s all Patch knew so far. “I’m sure it grows on you with time. Surprised even myself to make it through last winter.” That thought finished brightly a small smile coming to his face and light returning to his eyes.

“Have you lived here long Ianto?”

it is better to conquer yourself, than to win a thousand battles

[Ianto]

Child? No. Ianto did not think that Patchouli looked like a child, had reacted like a child. Had he reacted like he had not known, then yes. Some weren't as skilled as hiding their shock. He had learned how to hide many things long ago, being a King had not been easy. Treaties and diplomacy required one to hide what they were thinking. Sometimes even the hiding said more than you wanted it to. He was glad someone else had taken the mantle, that someone had taken it from him. He had held no hard feelings.

Every kingdom needed a King that was there and capable of handling the day to day necessities that were required. He had long since bowed out of that.

So he stood there and merely smiled, shrugging slightly. "It cannot be all learned in a day." And for now that would be enough. Had he said all those questions in his mind now, Ianto would have gladly answered them. He would have laughed and explained to the best of his ability. He would have understood. Ianto doesn't get angry easily.

"Yes. The Tundra is often quiet, even when there is a good King on the throne." It makes him think of him and Rigdon, so long ago, when it had seemed like they were the only two in the whole world. He had known it was not so of course, but the Tundra was so far north, and always colder than the rest of the lands. Few ventured to them. It had always been a matter of recruiting where they could. The Tundra struggled harder than the rest of the Kingdoms, always had.

He laughed a little. "I remember making it through my first winter. It was it's own gauntlet it seemed like." His ears flickered at Patchouli's words, smiling again. "My whole life." Perhaps then it was easier to see the age in the stallion's body. The gray around his mouth, speckled here and there within the colors of his coat, not only the white. And this land forced him to be strong, to stay fit, so he was. "Which has been some years."

Ianto

Nothing burns like the cold.