The winter snow blew all about, as fine as sand yet so much colder, the wind whipping it about through the forest. Empty branches creaked and swayed in the frigid breeze, and the powdery snow let out a sound of miniature hail as it impacted the side of one particularly unfortunate creature, slogging through the crystalline fluff carpeting everything. He was a strong, perhaps handsome weasel, hunched over in a cloak in an attempt to avoid these snow particles cast by the wind, half his face stil being lightly coated in the stuff. He could barely feel his claws and ears, and his snout was running like a faucet. Every once in a while he would pause to try and sniff the mucus down, or wipe a paw across his muzzle to dispatch the annoying substance. He closed his eyes as another gust blew snow into his face.
Two days had Sergei been travelling, this marking the third. He in actuality wasn't sure of where he was going, but he assumed it was the right way, by instinct. He fought resilliently against the cold, plowing through the gusts of wind threatening to blow him over to the cold ground. No, he knew this was the right way. It had to be.
Silas - Squirrel - Goodbeast Sergei - Weasel - Vermin Ghost - Fox - Neutral Heso - Otter - Goodbeast
Leaning against an old knarled pear tree several slats of old building wood and stretched pieces of canvas made a cozy shelter from the wind-driven ice particulates, albeit the space within was barely accomadating for a single average beast. The beast within was not of average size however, the tiny grey fox warmed his paws by a small but hot fire he had set. A noise of paws crunching the light snow made his clever eyes flick about. Swiftly he gathered what he needed: within one paw he concealed a small amount of unusual sand, and he quickly adjusted his crystal-rimmed glasses down upon his snout. Showtime! "Who goes there??? What nature of beast or fowl dares disturb the great and powerful Wizard Marlin???", the fox boomed in his best authorative voice.