Thunder Dome When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

35°, currently it is snowing and set during the afternoon. Located in sunspire mountains, cantatis cavern | tagging: @Morningstar

Ever since joining Rusalka, Rosencrantz missed one thing. Solitaridy. Slowly, like a fish getting accustomed to its new tank through the bag, he was acclimating himself to the group of individuals that surrounded him once more. They were different than the ragtag group of Aristos, but still, their sheer numbers were dizzying.

Climbing the mountain he found within it a haven. A cavern with lush greenery, a rest from the bombardment of the ash that fell from the skies. Here he could shake loose his fur and allow himself to be clean for a moment. For hours he remained, indulging in the silence and solitude in order to feel that neutrality once more. 

He wouldn't be here much longer - the borders of Rusalka needed more to protect it, to keep an eye on it, with the one eye he had left to give - but for now, he lingered... until the tug of work would bring him back home again.

It's been a long time since Morningstar's been cold. He shivers violently and tries to burrow down into his own fur for warmth, tucking his tail in around his paws as securely as he can. He never imagined that some places could get as cold as this; his whole life he'd been living in constant sunshine and warmth, with temperatures never dipping down below 20 degrees. Shivers rake his body and he sighs, eyeing the mist that forms from his exhale. Why did he even decide to come up so far north? As if there's a magical, all perfect haven for wolves with no humans. Morningstar snorts derisively. 
A few more minutes like this make him regret his decision and reluctantly, he's forced to stand up and get moving for fear of freezing to death. His summer coat is of no use to him here, and he's constantly being blown from one side of the trail to the other. At least there's some sunshine. Morningstar thinks, sneezing from the cold. Groaning, he forces his frozen paws to keep going forward until he has no strength left. He sinks down onto the ground, thankfully near some crevice that shields some of the wind, and waits for the merciful blow of death.

A sneeze caught his attention. Thick ears swiveling in the direction, believing that maybe it was another Rusalkan who came to see where he had run off too - or maybe stumbled onto the same grotto as he did in the desire to take some time away as well. No, this face was unfamiliar. Carefully he studied the individual from where he stood, facing him with his one good eye as the empty socket watched him in its own way. 

It was evident they were not accustomed to the cold. With winter quickly approaching, it would be a harsh reality for this individual to be in the wilds. Watching, the half-faced man realized that the new face would probably not make it much longer. Not only was he not accustomed to the cold, but shit, he was downright incapable of handling such a thing. With a chuff, he announced his presence, softly to not alert him too much. 

Slowly he approached. Ever so carefully while he continued to watch the stranger. Winter has not even begun yet.

A soft sound makes Morningstar startle, and he whirls around, letting out a soft yelp. Well away from him stands a gigantic white wolf, regarding him coldly. Morningstar lets out a whimper without realizing it. This was clearly a wolf from a pack, and he just stepped into their territory. "I-I'm sorry," Morningstar choked out, side-stepping in front of the wolf to show his good intentions. "I didn't mean to trespass." Morningstar ducks his head in respect.
"And I know winter's not here yet, I'm just not accustomed to the cold," he whispers after a few seconds of silence. He dares to look up at the wolf.

Sorry for the wait! RL has gotten so dang hectic, so please pardon my sluggishness!

With a movement akin to molasses, the snowy giant shook his head from left to right as the stranger apologized for something he, Rosencrantz, thought was ridiculous. These aren't claimed lands, you have as much right to be here as I do. But perhaps the chill of the outside was blinding this man's nose to indicate whether or not this cave was taken by a pack or not. 

It will get colder. How do you think you'll survive? Curiousness had kept him around. How could someone not bare the cold expect to survive in the wilderness that he had newly found himself in? Would the winter coat come in just thick enough to keep him from shivering to death?