Random Event (Winter Solstice): The strongest trees are rooted in the dark places of the earth. Darkness will be your cloak, your shield, your mother's milk. Darkness will make you strong... The trees and forests of Relic Lore provide decent protection from the winds but still allow the snows to filter through and chill it to its roots. When the sun sets and the frost makes the trees creak, what unimaginable dangers have come under the cloak of night?
December 20th; After sunset; Light snow, light fog; -6° F/-21° C
On the seventh evening in a row when the sky had barely lightened and darkness was quick to cloak the Lore once more, Sköll Archer was strolling about in the gloom, humming a tune that could have been defined as uncannily bone-chilling. The second-born prince had grown used to the company of night over the past week, oblivious to the fact that the Winter solstice had come upon them. When Asriel and Morganna laid asleep beside their mother, he tiptoed past Angier and Guiness at the mouth of the den and wandered off for the seventh time into the night to be alone. Since the siblings' brotherly spat, Sköll had enough wit to stay clear of his litter mate. Any time they caught glimpses of one another, it made the younger Archer bristle and seethe as he walked away. Because of this, it had only come to the silver-eyed youth's realization that, perhaps one day, Willow Ridge would not be large enough for the both of them, let alone Morganna too. So in the eerie reaches of the western part of his mother's territory he prowled, wanting to memorize every inch of his homeland and selfishly believe that it would all be his in the distant future.
For a moment his song ceased and the wary crow in the trees above him took flight. It had initially stopped the young royal in his tracks but as soon as the silence closed in around him again, he began to pick up where he left off, the song continuing. It wasn't often that Sköll sang or hummed, but it had been something he had discovered on his own when he had once attempted to mimic a songbird that had perched just outside the Infirmary.
Deeper and deeper he went until something in the distance stirred and the prince held still. His lips parted enough to release the breath he had momentarily held captive. A smirk crept up along his ivory-touched muzzle and he crawled between two bare hedges, their numerous twigs digging deep into his full winter pelt. As if to try and coax the eavesdropper closer to where he hid, he let his song snake through the darkness in a muffled and slightly off-tune melody:
"When I was just a little boy, I asked my mother what will I be?"
He had to bite back the childish glee that was bubbling up in his throat as impish giggles, continuing in his sing-song voice only when he felt like he would succeed in drawing his prey even nearer than before, "Will I be handsome? Will I be strong? Here's what she said to me..."