October 22; Just before sunrise; Moderate snow; 36 ° F, 2 ° C
It was the first snowfall of the season and Skoll, having been up all night, wandered in anticipation for the sunrise. Oh, to think of what colors would show if the sun shone through the gray storm clouds. He imagined it to be some sort of magical moment with hues of pink, orange, yellow, and blue rendering the snowflakes into some kind of rainbow of their own. It was probably a bit imaginative and fanciful, but according to the prince of Willow Ridge, it was only expected. This sort of thing only came during this time of year and, he had to admit, there was always something wonderful about watching everything he had ever known within spring and summer become blanketed in white.
At first he had thought to go to Fireweed Rise to watch it all from there out in the open, but thought against it. Staying home within the willows only invited his younger siblings to spoil this special moment as the frost accumulated on the ground and he simply could not have any of that (watching Isolde, Ravenna, and Niles frolic in the snow for the first time was something meant for their parents to witness and for their older half-brother to not spoil)
He spun about in a circle before deciding to head north in the night, wondering if the stillness of Sacred Grove would grant him the escapade he was searching for. Hours before sun-up, he found himself in the company of the strange trees after crossing the frigid current of the Swift River. The rhythm in his step slowed and, several times over, he backtracked to keep close to home. The last time he had been here, he and Titan taunted Angier just for fun; and, though not much had changed, Sköll merely wanted to be sure that he would not find himself lost, leaving his sister to worry about him back within the Ridge.
Along a crooked path that wound through the rough-barked trees, he walked until he thought he had wandered enough. Unlike the willows, these earthen sentinels were tall and, perhaps, a little older, judging by the width of their trunks. Their branches stuck out in all directions and the brisk wind that occasionally whipped through the Heart of Relic Lore did little to nothing to stir the snowflakes here. They simply fell down from the heavens, falling and piling up where they landed as the dark prince stood still to stare up into the limitless void of gray above.