Just another little One-shot over our favorite winter spirit. What it's purpose is...I'm not too sure, (it's probably just sucky nonsense because all I can think of today is the walking dead season finally OMG I'm so excited!) but it's here so you can interpret it as you like.
The icy mists receded back into the forests behind the horizon line, stars forcing their light behind sapping, cirrostratus clouds of black. As solar light traveled farther from the orbiting planet the shadows deepened, slowly shifting in fluttering, moonlit patterns across a sleeping figures face.
He couldn't have been more than a child, judging by the softness that rounded his paled cheeks and the smoothness of the skin that covered his eyes. Yet one glance at the silver and white locks dancing from atop his scalp would reveal just how unnatural he was.
An immortal, the breaths that escaped his parted lips weren't out of necessity so much as desire, for even in sleep he relished the hollow sensation of routinely imitating life. He slept sitting upright, his back pressed against a tree trunk and legs sprawled out over the nearest limbs. Clutched tightly to his chest was a long, crooked staff, frost coating it so thoroughly that it's color appeared to be shades of blue and white.
He was dreaming, contentedly smiling as faceless children cried out his name with wonder. Snow drifted silently down both in his subconscious and reality, and soon enough, a golden dolphin made of sand danced about his head. It dodged fat flakes and swam in the frigid air, yellow light glimmering in surreal reflections off of frost and snow. The boys fair hair caught the light, and the dolphin, almost out of energy, dived downwards, dissipating with a whistling sigh.
The clouds shifted from the moon, and it's swirling, singing beams grazed his cheeks, the sensation awakening the child. He didn't seem upset at the interruption, however, and cerulean eyes that revealed his agony timidly drank the scene, listening to the winds eager chatter with starlight. It's whispery voice soothed him, and the child felt the lull of slumber seize his center once more.
Albeit he shook the feeling away, rubbing the haze from his eyes with a yawn. Hanging above the cusp of depression, he smiled, looking up at the sky as the wind rushed past him, blasting his wild locks to stand on end.
"Wind!" He cried, standing abruptly and running forward, the balls of his feet digging into the frosted bark. A final burst of speed sent him spiraling off the shaking branch's end, his lithe form silhouetted against the moon. For a moment he was silent, eyes closed peacefully as he plummeted from the tree. Then, just as the wind began nervously tugging at his staff, his impossibly blue eyes snapped open, voice piercing the air like an arrow. "Let's play!"
The invisible element took the offer like a command and readily obeyed, swooping down and billowing beneath him. As though suddenly weighing nothing, he was caught like a leaf, twisting and gliding unsteadily up away from the tree line and into the vast dome that was the empty sky.
It lay itself before him. Sky beneath and sky above, swirling in a confusion of twinkling stars and reflective clouds. The wind's whispers tickled his ears, running its stolen voices and sounds and sensations around the boy's very existence. He whooped, unbridled joy brought from a righteous sense of freedom surging within. This was the domain only the wind and he could share, mimicking the movements of nature. His laughter echoed in the vastness around him, and he was tossed to heights above the radius of lengthy human extent.
He wasn't human, couldn't have been, but one look at the personification of winter's humanoid form could convince one of the impossibility. Albeit no one looked, no one pondered the oddity of his existence because not a soul cared. Not a soul believed.