winter cloaks the forest; thick and heavy. snow crunches beneath dracarys' paws even as they sink down ... and even then, he is not sure that he touches down through the cold earth. the siren prince draws in a breath, the morning air crisp and cold, needling like a thousand little iceknives in his lungs. after reuniting with his sister, filling his belly and spending several days slumbering he is feeling more like himself than he can remember ever feeling before.

renewed. reinvigorated. reborn. even though the dreams of the dark abyss persist.

frostbound gaze studies the snow capped pines; left ear flickering as the sound of squirrel's claws scurry along the rough bark, fat drops of snow fall to the ground beneath as they play among the branches.

dracarys takes another moment to study, to chart his path ... though these lands are wildly unfamiliar to him and he had vowed not to stray too far.