Feign and Tame

It was frosty and cold.  Despite this, Landon had donned a heavy shawl and trudged out into the ashen snow that lay about the underground.  At first, he stopped by the doorway and grimaced at the off-white colour, how it gleamed like illegitimate diamond dust.  A tentative hoof was put out to kick at it, test how powdery it really was; so far, it lifted as light as ashes.  

Good.  He could work with this level of despair.

Slice and Dice were thoroughly leashed up.  One might ask why would anyone need to leash a Deevish and Landon will merely respond with a very plaintive stare and the pointed question of ‘when was the last you were leashed up?’

He travelled on all fours briefly through the snow, bright patterning standing out while the more cream colours started to blend in.  There were only a few other buns out in this part of the underground, where the ceiling was a tad too low for the taller dolls and the ground was inhospitable to such delicate skin.  Stalagmites rose menacingly upright, their stark forms outlined in green hellfire that did not melt the snow.

He tried to touch that sort of fire once.  When he was just a hornless bun.  The memory brought a grimace.

The trek began to grow boring.  There was nothing but snow sparsely here and there as he started to crawl through sections of cave and reddish rock.  In some parts, steam erupted with such ferocity that he had to pause for it to blow off.  A minor hazard, as far as he was concerned.  Once Landon had squeezed through one last portion of the cave-- it was a tad tighter fit than he recalled-- then did the world open up once more.

Snow.  Snow on hardy brush and prickly grasses that carpeted this hidden meadow.  Giant chunks of crystals broke up the lush landscape, a dull glow within their hearts.  Landon let out a deep sigh and puff of frost.  He made his way to a corner of a brush and began to use a foot to kick the snow out of the way.  Blasted snow, covering up his special little place.  It served no purpose more than--

He paused when there was rustling in the bushes.  It was an incredibly soft noise that he was tempted to brush off.  Tempted.  Slowly, he began to work his way to clearing his spot again.  A tiny crunch of snow right behind him.  The succubun opted to glance into the polished surface of the gems rather than look behind him.  It was a blurry figure, but he managed to spot the shadowy form of an imp.  Those two, glowing eyes are impossible to mistake for another bun.  Or, so he thought after meeting one or two who fit the bill.

“You’re a long way out,” he cooed.  His voice was sweet and with the slight squeak of a bun.  Carefully, he turned to confront the wretch that encroached.

The Freign stared back with the same large, curious eyes that makes it so popular.  It tilted its head.  He stared at it in amazement.

What a perfect opportunity!  It had fallen right into his lap!

Usually, Landon had some sort of treat stashed on himself.  Now he was loath to use it, not as the thing was so close.  They were mistrusting, he heard.  With his ears finally lowered from the excitement-- they were lopped, the base merely rose slightly-- Landon held a hoofed paw out.

Dainty, tiny and nearly shaking steps were taken towards him.  A tentative sniff from the imp whose body radiated the same chill as the environment.  Oh, how glorious it would be to have one…

But he had moved too quickly.  The imp darted back with agility that he was impressed with.  

“There, there.”  Calm words.  He had no clue if the thing could understand what he said exactly, but he just wished to project the idea that he was a good thing.  He was the best thing out here, amidst the desolation, snow and crystals.  Even amidst the gems, Landon was the one and only that this damn thing had to think about.

Looks like he twitched too hard.  It stepped back, head down and eyes widened still.  Maybe Hutch could tell him about the head-to-eye ratio these things had.  Be still and it will come back.  Though, instead of standing and being still, Landon opted to plop himself down as gracefully as possible and watch the Freign.  It startled initially, but as he sat there, it watched.

As it watched, he continued to sit there.  Maybe he lifted a foot to scratch behind his long ears.

Eventually, it also used a foot to scratch behind its own head.  Landon took this as a sign that it was copying him, so he held out a paw to see how it would react.  As expected, the Freign trot over and sniffed.  It continued to do so, almost irritatingly drawing this encounter out, before it eventually rested its head in his hand.  He remained still for a second more before using the other paw to brush through the thick, wispy fur ruff around this imp’s neck.

Oh, he liked this so very much.  When he was through, the Freign opened its eyes and shuffled on over before it rested beside him.  Its legs, long and gangly, folded neatly underneath its frame.  Landon would have followed, but it was cold, the snow was everywhere and he was sure there was a lump of it in his ear.  Sure, it melted, but it was still a little cold wet spot he did not like very much.

“We can stay here for a little while.”  He brushed through the imp’s mane.  “Then you follow me.”

While it was silent and steady, Landon took the time to compare his colours with its.  It had a similar pale blue.  He would maybe like to darken some aspects, but this was a thing that migrated with the seasons.  Some will never be quite as lucky as he and he was content with that fact.  A few more brushes of the Freign’s body and Landon curled up.  He found a little spot that was just right; after all, he knew how to make a make-shift nest that worked wonders in the sullen cold.  Maybe a little nap, or a little moment to think and he will be trotting on back home with the bounty of winter at his heels.