The winter promises a swift and potent arrival, each bough glazed in frost with the rise of the sun each morning, and many never managing to shed their crystal sheaths at all, instead merely thickening with the fall of the dew each evening.

Though Dragomir enjoyed the play of light through the water-glass, and the sound of Letha’s mirth as she traipsed through and crushed those lucid frames beneath her small hooves, he was aware that he had duties to uphold. As he had not been at the meeting in which the King had been given this task of a temple, Dragomir had, belatedly, learned of the plans, when he’d stumbled in on the clearing area, quite unawares. Of course, he was embarrassed, but he had also been kicked into action – at least as much action a man such as he could be expected to undergo.

Kissing Ranjiri farewell and departing from her side after a long, lasting embrace, he nuzzles Letha atop her soft head before he is on his way, rock-filled pouches no longer as bouncy against his chocolate sides, in search of rocks for the temple. Breaking into an easy, traveler’s trot as the glass gateway passes him by, Dragomir ponders heading towards the mountains, before taking the southward trails through the meadow, instead. Though he has many stones already, his magic requiring them, none of them are the sort he’d call “colored,” or worthy of honoring a Goddess, but, being a collector rocks, he does figure the southern Heart is a good place to start.

It was a good place to gather gemstones for the means with which he colored his glass projects; perhaps it would serve, also, as a place to find geodes or agates.

The severe slope down into the caverns is taken with cautious steps once he slips about the roar of the eternal flames which burn with gusto alongside it. Though the winter has struck the north of Helovia, the late afternoon here, in the south, is warm, even without the help of the fire. Glad that at least somewhere in the realm hasn’t succumbed to the bitter chill that seems to have besieged his misty home, he relishes the warmth, and lets his eyes adjust to the ruddy gloom of the caverns.

Someone is already here, her motions into the branches comprised of crystal just barely catching his notice as he enters the main cavern. Recognizing her as Yael, the silver dragon shifter from the Edge, he is glad for his luck, knowing all to well that some strangers are not as good an omen as she is. All his encounters with her have so far been positive and full of warmth; he expects no less, as he picks up his large hooves, and follows after her.

"Hello, Yael," greets and nickers the deep voiced stallion as he enters the threshold of the space so as not to startle her, knowing how this strange cavern can draw your image through meters of the clear rock, seemingly through magic (but truly only through the passive power of the Earth), the large stallion finds her gold form quickly, but diverts his eyes almost as fast to search the floor of the cave and nooks of the crystals for colorful trinkets. He does, however, occasionally look up as he searches, trying to take separate trails from the growingly familiar woman, to better their chances of finding the best specimens, and smiles at her, when the moment merits it. The father in him, growing, the more time he shares with Ranjiri and Letha, rouses his voice again, as his thoughts erupt with warnings. Though Yael is an adult and surely capable of tending to herself, the stallion cannot help himself. What if something were to become of her, that his warning might have prevented? "Don’t go too far in. I’ve heard rumors of people becoming lost in these caverns."



Dragomir
I hope tomorrow you find better things.