The Sunspire mr. brightside

Just when spring seemed well on its way, the weather shifted to send a bitter chill through the lay of the land. Iovan shook his winter coat against the bite, and hoped his fur wouldn't shed for summer until the cold snap passed for good. Though he felt stronger now than when he'd first found Sunspire, he was still scrawny as ever beneath the plush of his fur, and the longer he could delay the revealing of that fact, the better.

He had no real agenda today as he roamed the mountainside. The fog shrouded all visibility, save for a few feet in front of him, and the sparse trees twisted in and out of the mist as sharp and spindled wraiths. A shiver passed through his spine in a strange and eager way. He'd heard stories about ghosts before - sad spirits who had died where the stars couldn't reach them - and his mind was there when Rannoch appeared more suddenly than Iovan had expected. A flash of heat scored the length of the boy and he skittered to a stop, with the suck of too loud a breath, only to release the clutch in the puff of a laugh once his mind unfuzzied the silhouette of his king from the haziness of the fog. "Rannoch!" he tried to keep his voice low, but everything sounded amplified through the uncanny silence wrought by the mist. His mouth curled in a nervous grin. "Thank the stars, I thought you were a ghost!"