Common sense told him that he should have just logged out. But Cain wasn’t all that common of a person, and even as the winds howled violently over the plains, snow flurries whipping into his vision until visibility was pitch black form how tightly squeezed his eyes were, the midnight-haired muse still found it in himself to enjoy the blizzard he found himself in. Battering in all directions by the furious gale, so powerful and frightening that the Grass Knolls had buried themselves deep underground, the muse simultaneously praised and cursed his bad luck with weather. Three layers of cloaks, one of wool, one of leather, and one of fur was not enough to stave off the bone-biting chill, and each step he took through the thick layers of snow seemed to sink deeper and deeper. Already, Cain could feel nothing at all in his shoes, the warmth of his body having melted the snow that crusted over the boots just enough that they could freeze solid instead. The rest of his body wasn’t in much better shape either. Somewhere along the way, the shivering and chattering of his teeth had stopped, while his exhaustion only climbed and climbed. Ah, everything felt like garbage. Everything felt like trash. This was such a terrible idea, deciding to go out for a hike when he KNEW that a blizzard was going to rear its ugly head on him during the dead of winter. But it was beautiful in its own way. The incessant white noise that drowned out all else. The meditative simplicity of forcing himself to put one foot past the other. The sheer, merciless power of nature, pulling him apart even when he had easily faced down trolls and giant wurms before. And, above all, the idea that the colder he was now, the more wonderful the warmth of a fireplace would be later. He just had to find it. A place to take shelter from the blizzard. The sturdy tent in his inventory wouldn’t do. There had to be a stronger, more permanent establishment somewhere. The man slipped, tripping on the edge of his own cloak, sending him face-first into a snowbank. Half-submerged, Cain almost lost it in that instant, the softness of fresh snow like that of a comfortable mattress, but as fatigue pulled him into the Winter Lady’s eternal embrace, the muse bit the inside of his mouth, brows furrowing in pain as lukewarm blood coated his tongue. The copper sting, the rusty stench. Pain and disgust kept him up, and slowly, gingerly, he pushed himself again, almost stumbling over a second time as the winds picked up suddenly, a gale slamming against his right side. For a moment, he just stood there, feeling the ice-burn on his chiselled face, the increasing demand his body had for warmth. Had to keep going. Cain had to keep going. Even though his heart-drum slowed with every beat, even as he lost more and more feeling in his limbs, he pressed on and on, stubbornly selecting a direction and committing fully to it. And then, in the distance, there was a warmer brightness in the white-stained night. The soft incandescence of flame. The promise of shelter! Of warmth! The blood that flowed from the inside of his cheek became fuel now, his heart pushing and pushing as he walked, jogged, ran, dashed! Thick bursts of snow were kicked up as the tall man clumsily approached the source of the light, practically plastering himself against the cold, wooden wall of the building. A small cottage, here? In the middle of nowhere? Was it abandoned and repurposed by another misfortunate adventurer stuck out in the cold? Or did an outcast of society use this as their place of solace and solitude? Regardless of why such a building was in the middle of nowhere, Cain was much too cold to care about the specifics. Feeling his way to the door, the triple-cloaked man pressed his hand against the handle as the last spark of arcane energy pulsated out of his fingertips, blasting open the lock. Even opening the wooden door outwards proved difficult, but after more desperate effort, he was able to slip himself into the gap, the winds themselves blasting the door shut in its wake. Ah, since when had a fireplace looked so divine? Without thinking of who had made the fireplace before, Cain struggled out of his cloaks, kicked off his frozen boots, peeled off his frozen socks, tossed aside his damp coats, wormed out of his fancy attire, shook the snow off his hat, brushed the snow out of his hair, and finally, finally strode towards the fireplace. Wearing nothing but his conservative (yet still rather classy) undergarments, linen clothing that gave his sinewy body a degree of mystique, Cain raised his arms sideways and simply allowed himself to cook before the heat of the hearth. Within moments, white fog rose from his body, and the muse let out a long, long sigh. Immersed as he was in his heat-bath, the man still hadn’t noticed any other inhabitants of this small cabin in the middle of nowhere. @Blithe Bombón
{Finally LMAO} Blithe loved the snowy mountains. It reminded her of where she was from irl- Canada. As much as it wasn't always snowy there, Nannette had always loved the days where she could run out in the white sheet of fluffiness that covered the ground and flop into it, spreading her arms and legs like she was doing jumpjacks. It was even more fun to challenge herself not to step on the outline of the snow angel as she hopped out of the mold, and although everytime she usually failed, her eyes still shone with delight as she gazed upon her creation. Now, as she had gotten colder, winter was still her favourite time- But for different reasons. Fuzzy long socks, cozy over sized sweaters, onesies, cuddling by the fire with your blanket or even someone elses if you're that lucky (For Nannette, it had been one of those big teddy bears. So comfy), hands curled into sleeves that were way to long for your as they surrounded a cup of hot cocoa. It was just about her favourite holiday, the ability to enjoy herself and be comfortable. And thats why, when she received the reward from a quest for a weekend get away up in the snowy mountains, she happily agreed. Heck, the guy seemed happy enough to give it away, as no one else seemed to want it. There was the main room, which consisted of a small kitchen area to cook with a table for those to eat around, chairs tucked into match, a couch on the side of the room with a little side table by it, a big rug in the center of the room that was fuzzy to the touch and came to sit in front of the fire place. Blithe had been in the back room, which was way smaller than the front room and has a big bed with multiple pillows and a fuzzy blanket, and a side table with a candle on it. Blithe, however, had been bathing in a small wooden tub she set up in the back room, using her cooking skills to boil water and have it set so it was bathable. Now, she had pulled on exactly as she wished- A big knit over sized sweater and some fuzzy socks. She found them hidden away in the drawer for those to use, one small pair and one larger pair, and she grabbed the smaller. There was also a sleeping mask, which she found rather fancy but it fit her fancy as she left her wet her out of its pigtails, tucking the sleeping mask to sit on her orange and blue hair as she yanked the blanket and pillow off the bed, yawning as she did so. Boy, did warm baths make a girl tired... Falling asleep in front of the fire place? Sounded like a grand idea. Yawning yet again, Blithe shuffled out of the back room, dragging her blanket and pillow with her. Crossing over to the kitchen, she grabbed a packet of instant hot cocoa and a mug, then turned back around as she crossed over to the fire, setting her blanket and pillow down beside the three quarters naked man as she prepared for a nice warm- Wait, what? Instantly Blithe hopped backwards, cheeks heating up a bright pink colour as she proceeded to pull out a frying pan from who knows where, waving it around the air wildly as she brandished it towards him, looking away as if still trying to give him privacy, "Excusez-moi, but what are you doing here?! And why are you naked?" So much for a relaxing night by the fire. @Cain Darlite
Ah, what a blessed, wonderful discovery. It felt like a century since he enjoyed the warmth of a blazing hearth, and Cain couldn’t help but let out another satisfied sigh. Being cooked alive must feel wonderful, huh? His stomach grumbled at the thought of cooked, hot food, especially that of a thick cut of meat practically dripping with oil and fat. How truly, utterly, marvellously, delectably tremendous! Though he hadn’t brought any raw meat with him to cook, it was still nice to fantasize, and Cain’s face became remarkably less chiselled and masculine and darkly sexy as he dreamed of fat stacks of venison. That delusion was broken in an instant with the voice of a female, brandishing a slightly-dented frying pan while her face alternated between a glow of embarrassment and outrage. A player? With hair and eyes like that, she definitely was! An easy smile formed on Cain’s face once all the visuals had been confirmed. Just a regular girl then. Gods above, it would have been quite embarrassing if a guy walked in on him whilst he was in such a state of affairs, eh? Taking a few steps away from her blanket and pillow so what snowmelt dripping from his statuesque form wouldn’t get onto it, the midnight haired muse wondered briefly if he should dress himself first, before deciding against it. After all, his own clothes were still much too moist from being frozen and then unfrozen. It’d be a more unpleasant situation for the both of them if he took the time to get dressed, ultimately. “Ah,” Cain began with a bow, “Please excuse my current state of undress, young lady. I am Cain Darlite, Flagbearer of Miracles, an unfortunate soul blessed and cursed with the ability to attract the wrath of those who presides over the heavenly dominion above. I’ve stumbled across this little cottage to escape the termination of my bodily functions through the sheer cold, and, despite not confirming the presence of others within this building, have taken drastic measures to rid my body of the beginnings of frostbite. For the intrusion of your property and the disruption of your mental health, please, accept my apology.” A bit too much? Naw, it was never too much. “I would be obliged though, if you were to allow me a period of respite within your abode, if only so my travel attire could dry enough that I can brave the elements once more in search of an unoccupied shelter within these grassy plains.” The entire time he spoke, Cain remained affixed in his bowing position, his back straight and his body at a perfect ninety degree angle, both hands placed flat against his sides.
