Open Snowman Wonderland

[Slate]

43rd of Winter, 513 AV He had found dry tinder underneath a nearby fallen tree, where long-dead termites had left him a gift. There had been leaves and sawdust that were untouched by the recent snow and rains, and his Kukri carved more flesh from the dry underside of the tree. He gathered as much as he could in a small pile underneath the tree, and then did a quick search around the perimeter of forest he had defined in his mind. He managed to find a few more dry twigs and leaves underneath particularly big-limbed bushes that had held onto their leaves through fall, and deposited them with the rest he had found. A quick glance up at the winter sky told him that he probably only had a few more minutes before the next snow came. The previous clouds had rolled away, but of course more had been hot in pursuit. Slate rubbed his hands together, warming them just a bit, and hurried his pace. His thick cloak swept around his tall form as he moved, thin black clothes showing off the rather built body underneath. His hair was long but clean, his face shaved at the cheeks and neck but sporting a short black beard on the chin and jaw. Completely black eyes gave a somewhat eerie appearance to those un-used to it, but gave away his race to those who recognized it. With tender gathered, his next task was a shelter. He had secured Abaccus to the fallen tree, the top of the tree having perched itself against another nearby tree, making it a nice slopped piece of shelter to use. He tugged a neatly folded tarp from the side of the saddle, and threw one half of it up and over the fallen tree. After tugging that half down and securing it at the corners with some heavy rocks and logs, he had managed to form a rather nice looking tent. He shot a sideways glance at Abaccus, secretly seeking the horse's approval, but found nothing in return. The animal had reached his head out from under the shelter and started nosing through the nearby ground, apparently finding the fallen snow quite interesting. Slate watched him for a moment more, and then moved on. Flint and steel sparked, and the tinder lit. He had a torch pulled from his saddlebags and placed to the side for fuel, just in case he needed to use it. For now though, he quickly went about finding more dry tinder, using his Kukri to shave from dry bark and wood when he found it. The fairly thick treeline had helped keep more than enough places dry, after a few moments of searching. The man soon had a small little fire blazing, and none too soon. Almost the minute it was healthy, a light mixture of rain and snow started to drizzle, causing him to retreat under the tarp and warm himself by the fire. He was proud of himself. He had successfully made a shelter in adverse conditions. What if it had been pouring rain or snow, though? Would he have froze to death? His dark eyes went blank as he puzzled it over, trying to figure out what he could have done different. Mere seasons ago, he had given himself up for dead and useless. What would he do in a situation like this, cold and alone, with no hope of survival? Would he break down again? I'd live. One last time. Slate quietly moved out from under the shelter and into the light rain. His boots crunched in the snow, and he made his way over to a small clearing. The hairs rose on his neck, and he glanced back, noticing that his horse was now watching him. After a silent moment between the two, Slate continued on. His long tanned fingers dipped into the snow, and he quickly started to push at it, a bit unsure how to go about his task. After a few moments of awkward stumbling around, he managed to gather a rather hefty pile of the snow. With shaky and cold hands, he started to form it into a sphere, forming the base of a snowman. He had never made a snowman before. He remembered having wished he could, back when he was younger.

[Stefali Moore]

The leaves of the trees all began to rustle. Stefali had levitated herself into the trees. She looked down and frowned. The man below seemed to be making a snowman. Stefali had never gotten this tradition. It seemed to almost be some form of loneliness. If they couldn't get a real friend, they would make one out of snow. She crawled down the tree and looked around. She saw a small fire blazing. She had an idea. After all, she had to make an entrance.

She bent down and started emitting res from her fingers. Then she shaped it carefully around the fire. Turning it to air, she pushed it inwards, snubbing the fire.
"Maybe you should focus on more important things than an imaginary friend"

Then the cold hit her.

"You know, I'm not too mean. I'll start the fire again"

She emitted more res and fired it at the tinder, turning it into fire and hovering it there until it caught.

[Kizora DuLonite]

(OOC-Posted on here once, but wasn't sure. I'll respond, and If you want to continue, let me now)

Kizora wandered forward, shivering from the cold. There were days when she loved the cold, and its bite. Today was not one of these days. Snow melted beneath her feet as she pushed onward, exploring the heavily forested area. It looked like the world was sleeping, under its chilly blanket of snow. A part of her wanted to scream, to wake it up, to bring it to life again.

Her nerves twitched as she noticed movement near her. A man was forming snow into a snowman. The movement was curious, as she'd never seen a human so....wistful. It appeared like each movement was precious to him, like it was something beautiful. Even as she spoke, she regretted it, afraid it might startle him away from the creation.

"Hello."