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It was warmer here in the Basin, nobody could doubt that. They were tucked away, sheltered by the looming peaks so much taller than everything else on the flat, rocky Frostbreath Steppe across them. Here it was more pleasant- it could, in fact, almost be described as nice. Especially when you stepped into the steaming hot springs, where the warmth soaked into your bones and lingered in your coat, until you had to step out. Then it was cold, and you had to run to the back of a cave to avoid becoming a walking icicle, even if it was Birdsong. In fact, if it was Birdsong, there were no songbirds here except for the black crows flocking in the air. They were greedy, nasty little creatures, constantly flitting to and fro, their beaks emitting a croak and caw which set little Bacchus on the edge. Constantly.
It was a quiet evening, today, the sun was nice and pink over the cutting-edge mountains. There was the quiet drip-drip-plop of water falling, glittering beads of liquid falling free of the once-binding icicles that curled down from the mouths of the caves, from the snow-kissed pines. You could hear a muffled thump, here and there, as a pile of pristine white snow slipped off its branch in the distance. All of this Bacchus listened to, all of this and for the tell-tale crunch of snow so out of place. The sound of hooves coming towards him.
Nothing. Nothing at all. Plip-plop went the dripping tears behind him as he stood in front of a small, shallow cave he had claimed for himself. Nobody else wanted the slightly leaky cave with a fresh cold pool of water in it. But Bacchus had dragged in some pine needles, and scraped some moss off from rocks, to bring it in and create a loose, fluttery mat at the back. It was still cool in the cave, but warmer than before. The horse you saw standing sentry at the front of the cave sighed, digging a black hoof into the ground impatiently. Ever since he had got the little taste of fighting from the mare Aisha, he longed to play and fight again.
Maybe another unicorn would. Maybe another unicorn would just beat him up. But he called anyways, just a soft call filled with nerves and excitement- "Anyone want to spar?"
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WC: 396
1/2
Summary: Asked if anyone wants to spar.
OOC: d'Art can attack first C:
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![[Image: bacchus_by_ladyfey-d5jbta3.png]](http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2012/302/6/1/bacchus_by_ladyfey-d5jbta3.png)
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playing with ice [d'Art]
