Broken Antler Fen super winter!

ysen shook off the last flakes of snow on his brownish coat, shivered in dispair. his coat, it was clear, was not one for the horrible, terrible freezing temperatures; often he would bury himself under a pile of leaves and sulk. yet he was always forced to remove himself for patrols, or hunts for meagre sustenance. he had not been able to continue with his professed duties as a storyteller; he still did not desist in the presence of the storm. his mind still ticked, still whirled, and ysen never forgot the events of how he had come to nest in the fen's safety.

he smiled slightly; shook his head once more and set out to shake the cold from his bones.