16 Summer, 511
The pine forest just outside Frostfawn hold was littered with beaten trails and large clearings, used often by campers and those seeking to train for harsher environments. It was a place for a person who wanted a bit of isolation and introspection, without straying too far from civilization. Alas, there were many paths there that an Icewatch mount could not walk, when he sought the refuge of his thick fur coat. Belgar had chosen a particularly large white dell near the far edge of the green. He had already carved many shadowy paw prints into the heavy evening snow.
He could not even remember what he had said, but still the embarrassment lingered, hours later. He had never been very good at talking, no matter how much he liked to hear others do it. And he had mentioned something that brought the conversation to a quick halt, leaving the room stunned and staring. When the brows dropped again and the eyelids ceased their deliberate blinking, he had muttered an excuse and escaped from society. If she were there, she would have stopped him, or at least have helped him recover from the faux pas. But she was not. Their eyes still seemed to burn into his nonhuman face as he paced the clearing, trying to distract himself.
His twitching nose nudged away the snow at the foot of some nearby trees. Beneath it, he found some fallen branches that were soaked through by cold moisture. His tense maw took a gentle hold of them and he carried the wood to another spot a few paces away, where a small pile was developing. There were little holes in the snow all over, where he had collected similar treasures. If he could not add to the joy of idle banter, Belgar had decided, he could at least help some future traveller who was in need of kindling.