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The little prince had been laying in the back of the caverns, given life by the melting of the arch he had so admired. Caves were usually unbearably humid and hot, but surprisingly, this one buried in the ice and the snow was cooler than the summer heat outside. Our Enki took pleasure in the cooling sensation of the air, even if the moisture in which was at times choking. It was better than him dealing with the horrible heat that had caked his body in sweat only a few days before.
The water in the air had loosened several pounds of dirt from his grotesque features, returning a hint of white to the patches that hid beneath the ground. As for his bay splotches, well, you could see that at least the hair was supposed to be brown underneath. His wings were the only one truly suffering, as the feathers were horribly weighed down in the damp environment, perhaps except for any individual that would encounter our prince. His bodily odors permeate the air around him thanks to the moisture. Standing too close to our hero at this time might result in quite the workout for your nostrils.
So, he needed a bath. That much was certain, but normally our hermit avoids contact rather well. He has no need to impress others with his flower fresh scent or charmingly handsome appearance, and therefore doesn't give two flying fucks about hygiene. Age has also worn down his care, and the sore burn that lives in his clubbed limbs are more than enough to make him avoid movement - especially movement in the direction of water. At this point, however, he may not have to make much effort to swim once submerged - the collection of twigs throughout his mane and tail would likely keep him afloat.
Our poor little prince; we should not make such fun. After all, he is about to have one of his least favorite activities take place: socialization.
The sound of a masculine voice echoes throughout the cavern walls. Slowly, like the movement of grass growing, our hero gets up from the floor, twisted limbs anchoring him awkwardly as he pulls up his body. The shuffling makes a considerable amount of noise, but only continues when he begins walking down the carvens to find this new individual.
With his good eye, our hero catches a glimpse of green, a faint glow first. As the cripple gets closer, he begins to see a face surrounded by a strange looking contraption. What in the hell was this boy wearing? Our prince stops a few paces short of these strangers, smelling the scent of dog which puts him on edge immediately. He can't really see the lump that sits on the back of this colt too well. He clears his throat, glaring out at this stranger with a lump of flesh and a fierce seafoam green eye in the darkness, past a clump of hair that sits in the middle of his face.
"I'm afraid this cave is already occupied."
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