Kingsfall the ghosts have silent footsteps

For a moment, Dread and Ice were caught in a flurry of snow as they danced around each other, small playful growls echoing in the air before Dread’s forelimbs landed on Ice and the other decided he wasn't going to wait around for Dread to move off of him.

Ice’s mouth managed to catch hold of the side of his neck, all fluff and nothing else. Yet Dread just laughed as he was dragged down with the old geezer, knowing it was all in play and not a fight for anything in particular. Perhaps to see who could wind up on top in their play fight but nothing more.

Dread rolled so he wouldn't fall completely on top of Ice, carefully tugging out of Ice's grip and rolling away. A thought crossed Dread’s mind and with his paws facing Ice, Dread began to fling snow towards the other wolf, as if he was planning on burying the elder in the white powder.

He wasn't going to completely cover Ice of course, only enough to put a small covering over his fur. But Dread was giggling anyway, since he still had plenty of energy left in him as his paws pushed the snow towards Ice.

you do not know who is your friend

and who is your enemy

Oomph. He grunted as the dark yearling collapsed in a neat pile on him, all fur and legs and tails, and while a lot of the weight hit his ribs and back, most of he other wolf fell beside him in the snow. Ice's tail thumped out a victory, even though he was half-buried under Dread, and when the yearling oh so graciously asked to have his fur back, Ice let it slide between his teeth. A couple of dark strands clung to the inside of his mouth, and he spat them out while slowly rotating himself, still laying, to face Dread instead.

And get snow shoveled in his face. With a sneeze, and a yowl, he got up, shook himself like a snow-cloud in his own right. More kept piling up against his frontlegs as he stood, and with a chuff to match the other's giggling he pounced with a tad more grace than you would suspect of a nearly ancient polar bear of a wolf. He didn't precisely know what he was aiming for, just Dread in general, to maybe roll him through the snow, or grab his tail, or anything, really. Depended on what suitable body parts presented themselves to him.

until the ice breaks.

let the stars above shine in your soul

For once in his young life, Dread felt nothing but playfulness and the lofty feeling of ataraxia as the two wolves played in the snow. And he liked it. He had found since leaving the confines of his mother's pack, he'd felt that he was more at peace and less stressful then ever before. It was most likely due to the fact he no longer had his mother hovering over his shoulders, expecting him to be the perfect heir to the throne.

If she were here, she'd tell him to stand up straight and stop acting like a fool, despite his young age. And he'd follow her commands because she was his mother. And Mother knew best.

But she wasn't here. Dread was alone, without any kind nearby to scowl at him and make him feel like he wasn't actig according to how a Prince truly should. Instead he was rolling away as Ice lurched towards him, playing with the stranger and enjoying the feeling that his mother couldn't come by and drag him away by the ear. It was fun.

Dread allowed himself to be rolled about in the snow, the white powder covering his fur as his laughter rang out into the air.

{FADE}