Dead Empress Backwater The sun shines on everyone

Gift box RE: The icicles hanging off the trees have formed into strange shapes! They're long and curved, if you were human you might even think they look like a candy cane.
Late morning. For Asmund only please! <3

Clover tilted her head back to gaze up at the empress trees, mouth slightly agape in wonder as she eyed the icicles that hung down from the branches. They were uncharaceristically curved in a way she thought was not possible. And yet here she was looking at them. She wanted to break one off to study it closer, but they hung far too high in the air for her to even attempt reaching.

She supposed simply looking would have to suffice. Fluffing her coat against the winter chill in the air, Clover decided to allot a small portion of her morning to gazing at the uniquely shaped icicles. Sometimes it was good to appreciate the small things in life, especially given how stressful the past few months had been.

Every time night fell, Viorel the territory and Asmund was forced to exist without that extra level of security. He started to use that time to sleep when before he had often dozed through the daylight hours. When the sun crept up and illuminated the world, he knew that the peppered wolf was likely to be back, his singular totem against the boogieman that lived beyond. At least, he hoped each day would be the same as before. That Rayjiek would not steal their alpha away from them too one of these nights when Viorel was alone...

He looked for him now, eager to lay these uneasy thoughts to rest, but came upon Clover instead. Her fur was so clean and white that he nearly mistook her for part of the landscape, but a glinting of her amber eyes caught his attention and caused the young boy to hesitate. Pausing mid-step, he grimaced nervously. He wanted to have better control over his fear, to face this desperate fluttering in his gut and overcome it. At least she didn't look aggressive... his beryl gaze eventually followed hers, and found the glimmering waves of ice.

(This post was last modified: Dec 12, 2022, 04:38 AM by Woya.)

At a turn of her head to gaze at more of the icicles she spotted one of the children standing nearby, his own focus also up above. The boy was already larger than her, but far skinnier than she would have liked for a boy his age. Was he not eating enough? Her motherly instincts kicked in at the nervous look on his face, sensing that it likely had something to do with the fact that his own mother was just recently murdered, leaving him and his sister as orphans.

Clover smiled warmly at Asmund, hoping to ease any fears he had about her. "I've never seen icicles like this before. Aren't they strange looking?" She figured a good start would be to engage in some light conversation with him, not wanting to push him too far with too many questions directed at him. Maybe she could even find him a meal before the afternoon rolled around.

She spoke, and the unfamiliar sound caused him to flinch back to attention. Scared eyes regarded her warily as she mused aloud about the curious formations, something he did not know was peculiar. It was his first winter, and his mother was no longer present to answer all the questions he had about the world and tell him what could and could not be expected. He blinked at her, then shuffled his paws nervously, unsure what to think or say.

Nothing about her seemed threatening as of yet, but could he really be certain that meant anything? All it took was her changing her mind, a matter of simple seconds and he could be right back on the ground, or worse...

Asmund remained quiet instead, and looked away guiltily. It wasn't his intention to be rude, he truly just did not have whatever words she was looking for.

His flinch did not go unnoticed, and it felt like her heart was just squeezed far too tightly at the thought that mere words could cause such a reaction in a boy as young as him. Children were supposed to be fearless, or at the very least not afraid of everything around them. Perhaps he just needed a gentle and guiding paw, just like her own Margo had when she had been younger.

Clover had waited for him to speak, even if it was just a noise of agreement, but instead Asmund looked away, remaining silent. Well if he wasn't up for speaking, maybe she could give him something to do instead.

The icicles above her were out of reach, but after quickly looking around she spotted an empress branch nearby where icicles hung just low enough for her to reach if she raised up on her hind legs. Moving slowly so as to not scare the boy, she grunted softly while standing up high, using her forepaws for balance so she didn't topple over. Wouldn't that be embarrassing.

After a few misses she finally managed to grab one of the icicles in her jaws and twisted her head to the side to snap it off. The ice was cold against her teeth, but she knew from experience that crunching into it could be satisfying for some. Slowly moving back to Asmund, Clover gently propped it in the snow so that the curved end pointed up towards the sky, and then stepped back to allow him some space if he wanted to investigate it.

"See how it curves at the end? It's quite unusual, but still just as sturdy as normal icicles."

Asmund continued to push his forepaws at the snow, absently shaping it to give him something else to focus on instead of hanging all his attention on the awkwardness he was causing. Rather than continue talking to him, she seemed to move on, and for a moment he looked around him considering where to look for Viorel next.

He snapped back to attention when he realized she was coming toward him, and his green eyes watched her place the ice in her mouth with apparent precision. Instead of investigating, he blinked up at her pale face as she spoke again. Only when she had been quiet a moment did he blink down at the object. It glittered in the sunlight, pretty but... ultimately useless, wasn't it? What did it exist for, just to be looked at?

"... okay," was all he could think to answer, looking up at her once more. There were questions a plenty in his mind, but those were his own to figure out, right? Surely this wolf didn't want to spend her afternoon explaining tedious things.

He was silent, only blinking as she put the icicle down. But finally he spoke! It may have only been a single word, but it was better than nothing, and now he was at least looking at her. Undeterred by his shyness, Clover smiled warmly at him again. Sometimes all it took was a gentle nudge to open someone up, but she wouldn't push him too far if he wasn't quite ready.

"You're welcome to continue staring at it," she began with a soft hum, sitting back on her haunches and wrapping her tail around her forepaws to keep them warm, "but I find they're quite satisfying to bite into and chew on." Although maybe that was just because her parents had used them as a way to keep her and her siblings occupied during the wintery months when she was still a child herself.

"They're also an easier source of water if you can't find an unfrozen river or lake. Simply bite off a chunk and let it melt in your mouth." As a smaller and less strong wolf herself, she had resorted to using icicles to keep herself hydrated now and then as she felt breaking through the icy layer on a lake or river could be a bit too dangerous sometimes.

Or maybe she did. No matter his lack of enthusiasm, she continued to try and engage him over the elementary topic. She offered the icicle as a toy, and he wondered if it felt more like chewing bones or chewing on sticks. That was neat enough he supposed, but then she really got his interest when she started to talk about it being a replacement for water. Asmund blinked at it and then her, back and forth a few times before mustering the questions.

"... its water? What's, 'melt'?"

He supposed, if she really did want to talk about it, maybe he could get in a few questions. It wasn't to say he was not still on edge, eternally aware of their surroundings, but little by little he at least felt less tense about Clover's presence itself.

It seemed she had finally piqued his interest, and she watched amusedly as Asmund looked back and forth between her and the icicle. He finally spoke, and a question at that! Progress was progress, even if each step was small. She'd gladly take whatever he was willing to give her, and maybe the next time they spoke he'd have more to give.

Clover nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, it's water but in a solid form. Icicles are made by water dripping down from a branch and hardening, and over time it creates  a long sliver of frozen water hanging from the branch." That was about as simple as she could explain it to him, though she was curious that he had yet had the concept of ice explained to him. Perhaps she should query Viorel about allowing her the chance to spend more one on one time with Asmund and Llinea.

"Melt is when the frozen water slowly becomes a liquid again. It happens when the sun warms up the ice, or in the warmth of your mouth." Perhaps he would test it out for himself, if he wasn't too put off by her presence.

Solid. He mulled the word over as he finally reached out a paw to press down upon the icicle, testing its firmness for himself. It eventually snapped beneath his force, the soft cruck an unexpectedly pleasing sound. A shadow of a smile tugged at his lips, but it never bloomed.

Considering her words, he pieced them together with what he did know, green eyes following his thinking from the ice to the tree boughs to the powdered snow and then up at the sky, from which an occasional flake floated down. Was this why snow was so wet, how he could feel soaked without ever touching a pond or river? It was water in yet a different form, wasn't it? How many shapes and textures did it take on?

"... huh," he finally answered, the small acknowledgment all he could think to say in the moment. He moved his paw an inch, and made that same cracking sound again. His tail twitched, a small spasm of happiness.

"... have you seen Viorel?"