Winter grips itself tightly around him, angry and biting into the deep violet and burnt orange of his skin. The cooler months are still something he is learning to survive within - the heat and smoke of Tephra had housed him until recently and the young boy did not find the frost-covered forest as welcoming as he could have hoped. It is quiet and still, however, and though the chill sinks deep into his bones, there is a certain awe in the ambience around him. The bark of the pines are damp with moisture, pieces of its surface broken and fractured by layers of ice. Frost sparkles like crystal in the leaves while chunks of old snow remain stuck between the gnarled roots of age-old trees.
Without thinking it into reality, his whole body shimmers and flutters suddenly with movement as if there is something within him trying to set itself free. The indigo color of his skin fold and flip, the noise most unpleasant as he likens himself to the frosted wood by adorning a thin sheet of ice across his entire body. His mane and tail that once billowed freely now nearly are encapsulated into stillness by the frost he mimics, pointed downward like foreboding icicles. The strange color of his skin is still seen through the translucent of the ice if only muted by it.
It is then that his violet eyes fall onto an auburn girl. Skandar does not notice she is actually resting against the frostbitten tree until he has taken a few curious steps closer, a slight tilt to his head. The stiffness of his mane crackles terribly against his ice-covered neck with the movement, scraping uncomfortably. The star-strewn and ice boy halts a few paces from her (unafraid, for is he ever?) and snorts gently, a cloud of condensation rising from the warm air that blows past his nostrils. He eyes the pieces of ivory that jut from her skin - it isn’t something he’s seen before and though he does not have use for it yet, he studies her quite carefully now, committing that armor to memory.
“You’re an interesting creature,” comes his smooth voice, as if he wasn't one himself.
Skandar only gave his attention to those who kept his interest. He often became bored and he idly wonders how long it would take this time. He tilts a back hoof and with a few studious blinks, he has a feeling that she might hold his attention far longer than he expects.
skandar
@[rosebay]