Blackfeather Woods Something about you turns me to a savage

Ramsay didn't hesitate to bolt out of the den early every single morning, and most days, that was an uneventful affair. Potema did nothing to stop him and his siblings often joined him. That morning when he burst through the vines that hid the den's entrance, however, he stopped in his tracks rather than proceeding to the stream to slake his thirst. The dwarf had become familiar with the layout of the glen: there was the pond and falls, which someone usually prevented him from going toward; and there was the stream, which he was allowed to approach; and over there was the other boy, much older and much larger, who never engaged them; and here, where the vines were, was the den. He knew his way around it, knew its smells, its colours and its sounds.

Imagine his surprise when, upon stepping out of the den with his usual exuberance, Ramsay encountered not the normal sights of the glen, but the glen's resemblance with a completely different colour palette. Overnight it had snowed heavily on Blackfeather Woods, and though it was unlikely to stick around for more than a day or two, the snow had stayed long enough for Ramsay to find it in the morning. Apprehensive as he was about new things, he reclined back on his haunches, providing an interesting sight for anyone who had never seen him with his short spine before, and growled skeptically at his transformed surroundings.

@Titmouse if you wanted to have him invade the Glen, otherwise would love @Cassiopeia or really any other adult(s)!