Submission (#5179) Approved

The little snow child had only recently found their life-long friend and pomu slowly disintegrated and became a little crystal lifeform before their very eyes. The 'little prince', as they were often lovingly nicknamed as a tease, was bereft of joy at first, before the other, older kittoms around him gently explained how the early seasons were considered seasons of darkness. Mana depletion had stopped the caravan that he had travelled with to a full stop in Ealei, on the claims of safety and restocking while the roads became somewhat tumultuous.

Ethern honestly wasn't impressed by the surroundings that they had found themself in - sure, the little winter festivals to help banish the darkness, and lantern-makers busying themselves in creating beautiful floating artwork that other elnin seemed to almost boast about and show off were a sight to be seen, the location was something the young kittom was not a fan of.

The grand island was very wet, and rocky, many places almost expecting you to walk through little puddles of water to get from one place to the other, and gargantuan roots of the world tree cut in to the skyline around them made everything just feels super closed in, almost as if it was trying to hold the country in, and the world out. To them, it was a little claustrophobic, to a kittom who enjoyed the sky open and ablaze over them.

Being here was only temporary, at least, they thought as they bobbed through a cozy little community near the waters again, looking at what the merchants and traveling artists had brought out to sell, a simple, snow-fall marked lantern lazily following in their wake, tied daintily around their tail. It was a little too surreal that Tsurara was held within it, still.

"That's a mighty fine lantern you have there, child," chirped up happily from behind, making the little prince turn around in curiosity, eyes connecting with a rather beach-loving looking merchant with the wares. Confusion became curiosity, and they walked over to their portion of the bazaar, head tilting.

"I was told to think of the nicest thing, and put it on the lantern. I've always been a fan of snow ..." they admitted a little sheepishly, "We were going to leave for Strynhalde, but," he continued, before politely nodding at her own shell-like lantern that hovered softly next to her. The small table in front of her was flush with little trinkets and knick-knacks, things that you could decorate yourself, or others with. Most of it was rather beachy themed, which made the little Prince smile a little.

"Ah yeah, that'll be a total bummer," she admitted, her voice reminding them of the salty waves of the Palu'au Island. It did horribly to their well kept fur, curling it and making it just a mess to work with. "Never was a fan, I live for the hot sun and waves of my home. I only come here to share my wares during the off season. Change of pace, you feel?"

Her way of speaking was quite different, but they couldn't help but be drawn to it, a warmth in her tone that was rarely found.

"I suppose you could call it that. I never thought about living in an 'off season' area, really. I've just been marching along, trying to find somewhere I'm happy in," they admitted, before looking at the charms again, head tilting a little in thought.

"Well, they do say 'Home is where the heart is'," she chimed off, watching the little kittom form new paradigms about their world, the snowy white child full of new worldly knowledge, and more to come. "I was born on the islands, though, I've only known my little world, separate only by a short boat ride. You sounds like you're living a big life already."

Hearing her say that broke their concentration, as they looked up to her again.

"Mother told me to 'not sit on my laurels', and find my own spot in the world. Something about not hiding in her shadow." They admitted, "Being the child of royalty brings a lot of stigma, and she wanted us to find ourselves first. Prince by name, I guess." It always gave them a little feeling in their stomach, one part sadness, one part comfort. They always had a place to call home, but they took her words seriously.

"Wise words, really." She admitted, before cracking a smile. "Who'da think I'd get to meet royalty, at the least!" A hearty, warm laughed following, before she leaned in closer. "Don't get discouraged if it takes you time, though, little Prince. Some people are served their future immediately, while others get to find themselves first. You've got a bunch more to see, it seems."

"Ethern," he stated first, before their face screwed up a little, thinking about it a bit more. "I suppose so. But, I was told we can't do much until the winter months are gone. I remember the encroaching feeling of the thickening miasma, but I don't like being stuck here. Or, well.." They trailed, looking at their own lantern again.

"Well, then, Ethern," She trailed, before looking up at the white lantern. "That's what these little winter events are for. We keep each other warm and happy while we can, keeping each other comfortable while the world gets cold and silent. Your little one will return before you know it, and this will just become another cog in the wheel. I promise." She offered to him, before reaching down and finding a little charm, light blue and pinks, baubles and a little shell, before leaning forward and clipping it to their lantern.

While their mind was spinning a little from her knowledge, they almost missed her gesture of kindness, snapping back to look at the charm. "Oh, I should pay you for this, shouldn't I?" They stammered, before going towards their little coin purse.

"It's on the house," She offered, before handing him a little card with her information, "hold on to this, and the charm. I can only hope it'll help you on your way from here. Maybe someday, we will meet on the Islands again, and I can show you my home, and you can tell me about yours."

Suddenly feeling a little uncomfortably warm from the flush of shy exhilaration, they turned their face down, looking up at the elnin before him, a small smile cracking from their usual calm face.

"Thank you. . . I will cherish this." They mumbled a little, before she started to send them off again, with a wave of her paw, a warm smile on her face.

Taking the sign, they left, after small hesitation.

They would return to the gross, salty islands, only to tell this sudden, fair-weathered friend about what they found. The little jingle of the charm that now softly sang from the lantern becoming a comfort to him, almost a promise.