Vynter
He had managed to finally find himself some clothes. They didn't fit the greatest, and he still didn't understand what their purpose was, but he wore them because he found people reacted to him more positively when he did. He didn't remember how long he had been walking, it could have been hours or days, but he was fascinated by all that surrounded him, and in this new form he was so eager to experience everything. His steps were still silent, because despite the benefits he couldn't bring himself to put on shoes. The feeling of air between his mini hooves felt nice, and the earth beneath his soles was comforting.
It didn't take him long to come across the Shrine, it looming over him with its ominous presence. Unphased he trudged right on through, not realizing the significance of its standing. The smell of dust and paper overwhelmed his nose, and he almost thought because of the strength of it his old sense of smell had returned. Upon realizing he was merely surrounded by old pieces of literature he cast that thought aside. Making his way between the looming shelves he would sometimes peek over them, looking to see what might lay behind them.
Before he knew it he had reached the epicenter, and there in front of him stood a woman holding something close. He moved silently, approaching from behind and looming over her to curiously inspect her find. He found himself leaning forward for a closer look, his fingers twitching in hopes they might move to grasp it. But he was distracted by the dark orb that was perched before them, nestled on a lonely pedestal waiting to be touched. His legs carried him to it impulsively, icy eyes filled with intrigue as his hand reached out in an attempt to brush his fingers along the side of the smooth surface.
It didn't take him long to come across the Shrine, it looming over him with its ominous presence. Unphased he trudged right on through, not realizing the significance of its standing. The smell of dust and paper overwhelmed his nose, and he almost thought because of the strength of it his old sense of smell had returned. Upon realizing he was merely surrounded by old pieces of literature he cast that thought aside. Making his way between the looming shelves he would sometimes peek over them, looking to see what might lay behind them.
Before he knew it he had reached the epicenter, and there in front of him stood a woman holding something close. He moved silently, approaching from behind and looming over her to curiously inspect her find. He found himself leaning forward for a closer look, his fingers twitching in hopes they might move to grasp it. But he was distracted by the dark orb that was perched before them, nestled on a lonely pedestal waiting to be touched. His legs carried him to it impulsively, icy eyes filled with intrigue as his hand reached out in an attempt to brush his fingers along the side of the smooth surface.
