Cold

ROSCORRO Towering ferns stretched towards the sky, kissed with the touch of frost. The world was quiet and still. The moment of silence as night turns to day as the world holds its breath. It was mysterious. It was beautiful. It was cold. So very cold. The heat from decaying leaves rose from the ground, filling the world with a fine mist that sucked the warmth from your skin. Amidst the haze a towering tree stood among the ferns. It dropping bows offering a heaven for those seeking shelter. One such creature had sought its protection as the day and fallen to night. Curled tightly against the massive trunk, wings wrapped tightly around his form, slept a monster. Dug down into a bed of earth and rotting leaves in search of warmth, Roscorro had drifted off into a fitful sleep. Alone in a strange land, deprived of his magic and haunted by relentlessly watching eyes, he had slept little. Moving through the land until the cold and exhaustion had forced him to stop. Morning found him within the forest of Solanis. Though he did not know its name, nor did he have anyone to teach it to him. Not being born within Helovia, the tribrid was at a disadvantage in terms of knowledge and lore. He held no attachments to lands devoured by the rift. Nor did he have anyone he could possibly fall back on in his time of need. But his fighting spirit kept him going in face of such unfamiliarity and dangers. His body fought off the cold his magic had kept at bay. In time his thick coat would grow more course to combat the chill. But until then he had nothing but his wings and wits to keep him alive. That and a bit of luck. As luck would have it he had happened upon this massive tree and the rich layer of dead leaves that littered the ground. It was not much, but it had provided enough of a barrier against the cold. And with those menacing eyes watching him, the beast let his weariness consume him. In the welcoming blackness of sleep he was beyond the reach of those eyes. Numbed by the cold he did not care about what they might do while he was not watching them. Even as leaves from the dragonfly willow drifted down to rest upon his body, the stallion slept, as if held by the spell of the forest. For the briefest of moments, Roscorro knew peace. "Talk." But You Cannot Break My Hope! I'm Still Undefeated!

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OOC:
Open to anyone that wants to come interrupt my boy's sleep!