In the wee hours of the morning, the cold had a bite to it.

Fog curled about his ankles like docile, devoted pet as he stands immobile – save for the gentle flutter of his sides as his breath comes in rolling clouds – all the while listening to the sable mare with the crimson trimmings giggle. He thought there was desperation in her laughter. He’d heard it several times now since they met in the threshold and he didn’t think anything particularly funny had transpired in that length of time. Perhaps she hid an exceptional wit behind those red eyes, unspoken to an acquaintance, or she could just be as mad as a hatter. If that was the case, she’d probably fit well in the Frostheart’s merry band of misfits.

The most important thing was that she seemed pleased by The World’s Edge and what it had to offer.

Never far away, the frostbitten king’s own war cry reverberated through the territory in reply to the cinder beast’s summons. Cineviam’s head raised a couple notches, delicately molded ears swiveling and finally locking on the spotted stallion’s position, his ghostly body an apparition in the chilly watercolour painting of their kingdom. A smile may have warmed the glacial features but Cineviam had seen it more than once and the kind gesture did little to affect him. The unmasked pride accompanying the words did manage to lift the corners of his ink-chapped lips.

Vanamo seemed quite taken with Mauja, and Cineviam was perfectly content to pass the torch on. From the little contact he had with the flirty wench, he knew she enjoyed being the center of attention and was assertive enough to answer the king herself. He gave her that opportunity, as it also let Mauja get a taste of what his recruit was like. When she asked who the Frostheart was, he did step in, unwilling to become a fly on the wall. “Vanamo meet the Mauja. He’s the King of World’s Edge,” he said in formal tones.

Another small step is taken toward Mauja and the mare that sidled up to him, hoping the movement will draw blue eyes back in his direction. Vanamo needn’t get resentful; Cineviam only needed them for a few seconds. While she may have answered the question asked, he could anticipate what the snow beast really wanted to know. What would fast-track her acceptance into the herd. “I met this self-proclaimed warrior in the threshold… She was looking for an all horned herd to join.”