Bramblepoint башня

in a warmer season this forest might've been teeming with life. berries everywhere you look and greenery filling the place. but it was winter, cold and dead and still. there was little for him to eat. as if it wasn't already difficult, today was misty. fog filled the forest, making his vision more clouded. his hooves hit the forest floor with a thud each time as he searched for any sort of food.

at least he would be harder to see to other creatures with the mist. and when they did see him, through the fog, dasher would be a looming dark silhouette against the grey. maybe those little beasts would learn to stay away.