never take advice from someone who just admitted to being devious and just confessed to treason
It was not often that Roland felt the urge to explore, especially when Frostfall was approaching and the snow was beginning to fall more frequently, but somehow he had convinced himself to leave the borders of his home and see what the barren wasteland surrounding the valley had to offer. It had become obvious to him quite quickly that the answer was ‘not much’, but he wandered still, taking in the sight of gathering clouds and listening to the wind as it sung a haunting song over distant rocky crags and toyed with the gathering snow.
Life in the Basin was a drastic change from his past, and though it was disconcerting at times he figured variety was necessary in order to start with a clean slate. He wanted nothing to do with the memories he held from his time outside of Helovia, for he had little worth recalling from his childhood. If the overall mood of the Basin’s inhabitants reminded him eerily of his father, in what little, unpleasant time he had spent with him one starless night, he didn’t think of it; but overall he was happy in his new position, with a prescribed destination in his life to guide his steps where before he had been left to make his own purpose in the world, and he had proven to himself that he wasn’t capable of that yet. Clean slate or not, however, the storms were an irritant he would much rather do without.
The tips of his mane were still damp from his recent soak in the hot springs, a guilty pleasure Roland would never admit to aloud, but relaxing in the water with a swath of steam warming the air was the best way for him to get through a particularly chilly day. This morning was no exception, it seemed, for as he walked across the uneven ground the wind began to pick up and the gently falling snowflakes were soon being whipped through the air around him, tiny projectiles that stung as they lashed him in the face. Roland’s mane hung damp across his neck, frozen like heavy fingers of ice that bit into his skin with hooked claws. He lowered his head against the strong gales and plowed forwards, sinking up to his fetlocks in the gathering drifts of snow.
The clouds hung low overhead as the tempest grew in intensity, whiting out the land around him and filling the stallion’s ears with no noise save the rush of violent wind as it tore across the flat ground, carrying shards of ice in its wake. Roland paused a moment, battered by the storm as he peered wildly through the haze in search of shelter. It had not been long since he had last found himself caught up in a storm not unlike this one, forced out of the open air and into the throat of a cave, but he could make out nothing through the sweeping torrent of snow that swirled around him. Head bent, he pressed onwards with growing desperation, blinking through the flurry as he struggled to keep his frustration at bay.
Focused on his footing, he almost stumbled past a small hollow formed of rock and lined with pockmarked ice, but without hesitation he moved towards it, hearing the sound of muffled cries too late, barely noticeable over the sound of the wind and his growing irritation. Ducking his head, he plunged into the cave just as he caught the shape of another creature out of the corner of his eye, unaware until now that the shelter already was inhabited. Starting, he jerked his head up before his horn could catch her skin, looking at the mare with undisguised shock and incredulity. She was covered in snow and noticeably smaller than him, but he could tell she was no child. Fumbling slightly, he moved so that his body blocked her from the onslaught of snow, wincing at the chill that seeped into his muscles.
His heels were still exposed to the biting wind as he recoiled, trying to allow some distance between himself and the mare pressed against the cave’s wall. Suddenly he hoped she wouldn’t think of him as some abominable snowman come bursting from the cold, ready to finish her off after the storm had it’s go at her, as he was sure the tangle of ice and sleet that had laced itself into his mane and frozen against his damp hide made him look none too attractive. He tried not to feel self conscious as he stepped back, shaking the snowflakes from his mane and blinking away the fragments of ice that had clung to his lashes. The wind howled like a dying animal outside of the cave, viciously beating the stone walls and ghosting over Roland’s back. The Impersonator stifled a shiver as he regarded the mare with concern in his gaze, eyeing her up and down to ensure that she had come to no harm, though her cries had suggested otherwise. It was obvious she had been caught in the sudden storm too, for snow was wound throughout her hair like tangled ribbons, speckling her hide as it did with his, and he assumed they must appear to be quite the pair.
“Are you alright?” He panted, eyes wide as he shook his tangled forelock from his eyes. “What on earth are you doing here?”
Even in the dim light he could see that there was no horn on her head, and while the frozen plains surrounding the Basin were free to all, wanderers from the herd would still react unkindly towards any they came across who were not of their kind. Luckily, Roland was not concerned about the mare being an Equine, and wished to help her more than harm her.
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[O] A Crown of Ivy, An Unbroken Heart // Roland First
