1. ALL THIS MOTHER FUCKING SNOW So Guy was lost. That wasn't new. At least, not since he'd moved away from home for school. This was, however, the first time he'd ever been lost in the snow.
See, he'd been born on an island that had never seen snow in recorded human history. Then he'd moved to a state that so rarely saw snow that there was no such thing as a snowball fight outside of works of fiction. So now that he was wading through knee-deep snow in a pair of thick, fluffy pajama pants, a mismatched pair of socks, and literally nothing else? It was safe to assume that he had no idea what was happening anymore. The surroundings were entirely unfamiliar as well, and he had no pathfinding ability without some kind of familiar landmark to work from. All he could see was trees and wide open space and maybe a figure in the distance?
Hopefully someone would find him soon and wrap him up before he lost a few digits to frostbite.
5. GIMME THAT TEA. Upon finding any buildings at all, Guy's first stop was the largest. That it was packed hadn't surprised him, but that barely anyone paid attention to an arrival shivering hard enough for his teeth to chatter while dressed down for the weather even less than the average Dalish elf seemed cause for concern. He'd edged his way through the crowd without speaking to anyone until he'd found a space in front of the fire to warm his fingers and toes.
Everyone here that was speaking, he could understand what they were saying, and thank the gods for that. This wasn't home, not Boston, not Portsmouth, and not the Cite Soleil. He heard the word 'Inquisition' at one point, but he wasn't sure he'd heard that right. Could eardrums freeze inside one's head? Maybe. That sounded painful though, and he was pretty sure he'd have noticed if that had happened.
A fur dropped over him after a while, smelly and a bit moth-eaten, but it was better than shaking himself out of his skin, and he murmured his thanks, glancing around for where it might have come from.
6. DO ME UP A WILDCARD Introductions, or maybe plans for a boy that knows his way around a kitchen.
Guillermo Makara | Rifter OC
So Guy was lost. That wasn't new. At least, not since he'd moved away from home for school. This was, however, the first time he'd ever been lost in the snow.
See, he'd been born on an island that had never seen snow in recorded human history. Then he'd moved to a state that so rarely saw snow that there was no such thing as a snowball fight outside of works of fiction. So now that he was wading through knee-deep snow in a pair of thick, fluffy pajama pants, a mismatched pair of socks, and literally nothing else? It was safe to assume that he had no idea what was happening anymore. The surroundings were entirely unfamiliar as well, and he had no pathfinding ability without some kind of familiar landmark to work from. All he could see was trees and wide open space and maybe a figure in the distance?
Hopefully someone would find him soon and wrap him up before he lost a few digits to frostbite.
5. GIMME THAT TEA.
Upon finding any buildings at all, Guy's first stop was the largest. That it was packed hadn't surprised him, but that barely anyone paid attention to an arrival shivering hard enough for his teeth to chatter while dressed down for the weather even less than the average Dalish elf seemed cause for concern. He'd edged his way through the crowd without speaking to anyone until he'd found a space in front of the fire to warm his fingers and toes.
Everyone here that was speaking, he could understand what they were saying, and thank the gods for that. This wasn't home, not Boston, not Portsmouth, and not the Cite Soleil. He heard the word 'Inquisition' at one point, but he wasn't sure he'd heard that right. Could eardrums freeze inside one's head? Maybe. That sounded painful though, and he was pretty sure he'd have noticed if that had happened.
A fur dropped over him after a while, smelly and a bit moth-eaten, but it was better than shaking himself out of his skin, and he murmured his thanks, glancing around for where it might have come from.
6. DO ME UP A WILDCARD
Introductions, or maybe plans for a boy that knows his way around a kitchen.