you look so pretty in the dark of night - but i'm getting wise in the early light
Oryx moved through the frozen streets of the perpetually winter-locked town, his towering frame casting long shadows under the pale, unchanging light of an overcast sky. His raven hair hung loose, curling out from under a black fabric hate that was his favorite, streaked with frost and swaying slightly with each careful step. The cold air curled around him, but it didn’t bite as much as it usually had. His dark eyes scanned the deserted streets, solemn and unhurried, the faint crunch of his boots against the snow one of the few sounds in the quiet morning hours of the town. He appeared a figure carved from the very frost itself, foreboding in size yet exuding a gentleness that softened his presence.
The stillness shattered with a sudden, loud shifting noise, followed by a sharp yelp. Oryx stopped, his breath clouding into the air around him, and turned toward the sound. From the roof of a building across the way, a heavy blanket of snow had slid free, burying a figure beneath its weight. He strode toward the heap, his long legs carrying him across the icy terrain with an urgency that belied his usual measured pace. Kneeling beside the pile, his massive hands brushed away the snow with surprising delicacy. The warmth of his touch melted the frost as he worked, revealing a young man beneath the weight.
"Hold on," Oryx said softly, his deep voice carrying a calm reassurance. "I'll get you out of there." He lifted the snow away in careful armfuls with a quiet strength and when the man was uncovered enough, he held out a large hand for him to pull the other free. "Come now, I've got you."
