With the winter sunset gradually darkening the heavens, Dantalion's walking pace slowed so he could better tune into the forest around him, listening to the soft sounds of his own hoof falls in the fresh powdery snow, the sounds of a world quieting in the looming evening and the deepening chill. The wind picked up and shifted, blowing full into his face. The elaphotaur narrowed his eyes at the eye wateringly brisk air that blew through him. Something was off though. There was a scent carried with the wind that caught his attention. His brows furrowed low on his forehead as he sniffed at the air. Was that smoke that he was smelling? This time of year? Unusual but certainly not entirely out of the question. There was a tool cache within this neck of the wood that wasn't hours away. The ranger turned off the path he had been following to hurry along in the direction of the cache. The insistent feeling of alarm that niggled his focus and drive to tune out the wind. If there was a risk of a fire, he couldn't waste any time waffling about whether to respond or not. Better to be overcautious and wrong, than dismissive and actually correct. If it was simply someone who had set up a camp and a fire, or something of that caliber, he could apologize. There'd be no words he could offer up if inaction on his part allowed a blaze to grow. Dantalion made good time, following landmarks and his memory to the tucked away location. Digging through the light snow, he gathered a shovel and an axe from the chest, slipping the axe into his belt before closing it up. Next, he took to following his nose. It took a bit of time to reorient himself but Dan once more caught that whiff of trouble. Stopping at the edge of a clearing to cough from consistently deeply inhaling the cold, dry air, the ranger paused as the realization hit him. It was here or very close. Narrowing his eyes, he skimmed the surrounding wood and then the clearing. The weather helped him as much as his senses did. The low cloud cover obscured the moonlight and let him see the extent of the threat before him. There in the clearing were two strange, subtly blue glowing trails under the snow. The leaf litter under the snow was insulating the blue embers enough to nourish them along but the light, fresh, fluffy snow he'd been enjoying earlier simply wasn't heavy enough to properly melt and extinguish the fledgling fire.
The oddity of the fire's hue would have to be puzzled over later. For now, he had work to do! The ranger spent the next few hours stamping, digging, scouring through the snow, leaves, nearby roots and undergrowth to make absolutely certain that he had fully put the potential blaze out, hacking back or severing what he had to. Once certain that it hadn't gone to ground, that nothing remained, Dan wearily looked around the clearing, thinking back to the color he saw. It hadn't been a natural fire, so something or someone magical or supernatural had to have started it, accidentally or no. There had been some directionality in the initial arcs. Maybe if he continued in the same direction, perhaps he could track down the originator of what he had just dealt with. As far as he had seen or could remember, there hadn't been unexpected tracks in the snow. Dantalion figured he'd keep an eye out for more signs of who may have caused the fire.
On he trudged for a time before a deep fatigue from the efforts of the previous hours dragged at his body and thoughts. He mind whirled with the nagging realization that he hadn't seen any major, significant tracks through the snow since finishing in the clearing, but his exhaustion was keeping him any clear focusing. The ranger shook himself. He'd need something to block the wind, a small enough place to help keep his body heat close. Shifting his gaze skyward, he narrowed his eyes. Finding his way would be easier in the light of a new day. Opting for one of the quicker ways to bunker up, Dantalion found a tree well, used his shovel to dig it out some, threw down some hatcheted boughs to separate himself from the frigid ground, and then mocked up a few branches for a roof. With a sheltered hollow made, Dan nearly staggered as he dipped into his shelter to rest for a short while. That'd help him see more clearly, right? There had to be something more going on since the fire had been blue.
That had been his last train of thought as a deep, dreamless sleep overtook him pretty much as soon as he settled into a remotely comfortable position. The night crept on and when the light of the winter morning started filtering in through the open doorway and the branches and his mocked up roof overhead, Dan stirred, rubbing his face. His muscles felt stiff, but he needed to keep going. He hummed deeply as he shifted to rise to his hooves and clambered out of his mocked up den, giving a sound shake upon standing. After a yawn, the ranger hummed thoughtfully. Higher ground might provide more clarity. If there was a chance that there were other instances of fire or smoke, the chances were greater that he'd see it from a plateau. Dantalion started heading toward higher elevation, ideally with a good clearing for a view. The weather was calm and the skies clear; he'd be able to see for miles. If he was lucky, maybe he'd spot signs of the source of that strange blue flame. It couldn't have been smoldering all that long before he had found it the previous evening. Using the shovel as a walking stick of sorts as he crested the nearest rise of note, Dan narrowed his eyes as he turned slowly on the spot to drink in his surroundings, his tail lashing low and slow behind him. Someone had to be responsible, but from where had they come; where did they go?
SilverLutz
I'm sorry for the novella, but if you need more spring off of, do let me know! I'm happy to tweak. c:
Hunting was less than pleasant in the winter. Lots of animals hibernated and some flew or walked elsewhere to get away from the snow and the chill. There were those that stayed, of course, but Snare much preferred the variety of summer. This time of year he had a limited menu and, although he could technically stock up on dried meats and other things that had a decent shelf life, he refused to do so. Food didn't taste the same if it had sat in a jar for months or if it had died many moons ago. No, Snare insisted on only eating fresh meat. And so he hunted in the snow, wings beating to keep him aloft so his prey wouldn't spot him walking down below.
