He was born in very dark lands. But not as pitch black as this. Forests towered over looking as if they were to engulf anyone that dare be near them. If the stag was any smaller he would have been frightened by this indulging madness. What had made the gods come to doing this? What has happened that darkened the lands of Helovia. The only thing that would guide the stag now was the lights of illuminating trees. He continued to follow them and find his way around the dark lands. The meadows were beyond for where he stood under a casted out light. Squinching his eyes and shuffling closer to the edge of the luminating and ghostly light he could see scattered glows around the vast meadows. Though a fog crawled on the grounds, shifting the atmosphere into one of a dead man's yard.

Icy winds raked at his face, the strange stag just had shaken it off and feelings that shuddered through out his spine. I'm use to the cold.... right? A whisper of a mere thought that passed through his head. He held his breath before walking into the cold shadows and towards another light that hid through the frost and mist. White powder blurred some of his vision of the lights until finally he had carried on to another. He rested there, his hot breath showing as he trotted up to the fainter glowing tree. He nestled himself near it, shaking his head, and releasing the ice crystals that had so happen to be still caught onto his mane. Raising his head back up, icy orbs looked around for refuge of another lamp. Another safe haven from the shadows and demons.

Then something that lingered in the shadows caught his gaze. The outline of a dark person was standing there. The small blurs of white spread onto their back. White short hanging mane and tail slowly drifted in the powdered winds. The small glow of white eyes were there as well. His heart leaped, he would not want to meet a rogue or bandit that would ambush him. But as he held a sight on their outline once more, something about them seemed less intimidating or hostile. Who could that be? Farenjer remained calm as ever and huffed a puss of hot breath before speaking. His calm voice drifting in winds toward the other and a tinge of edge was in it. "Hello? Who's there?" Farenjer remained standing, with his muscles tensed. Always stay prepared for anything.