Over by the middle of the field, Dakota stood waiting. The pale pink horse sparkled, its snowy wings low, dusted in icy bits. It jerked upward suddenly, hair glowing soft rose in early light. “Juniper!” he shouted, tone full of joy. A tiny flake from winter’s start touched his nose - gone fast. “Get over here - you gotta look.” Juniper stopped short, feet tearing two lines across the frozen grass. "It's freezing!" he yelled - yet his shaky tone showed pure joy instead. Then he jolted sideways, flinging off snow that sparkled mid-air like dust from a flash bomb. "How’s this even possible?" Dakota burst out laughing, his wings shaking while he lifted off, hovering just above the grass. One wing skimmed an icy pool; instantly, the frost rang out - a sharp, glassy snap spreading through the quiet clearing. “That’s what water gives us,” he shouted, tossing thin ice pieces into the wind. The fragments grabbed early sunlight, flashing pink and warm yellow. “This is snow. Imagine…frozen joy.” Juniper’s ears snapped up, nose twitching hard. The air felt different now - not just icy and sharp like rock, yet laced with a deeper pulse, old as stone. Smelled like storm-charged wind, wet pebbles, downpours on warm soil - but under it all, frost biting deep. “Cracking frost?” He moved ahead, steam rolling from his mouth. Let’s see it A slow turn of his wing-like arms sent shivers through the air - Dakota breathed motion into the water’s core. Spinning once, cold snapped down fast. Juniper sensed it pushing at his coat, hunting warmth beneath fabric. With every step, hooves broke still pools; rings trembled outward under frost-slick surfaces, cracks splitting open sharp and thin, echoing like threads of noise weaving sideways. Wings flared wide suddenly - and power surged alive. Each little drop floated up. Juniper stared, stuck in place, while tiny spheres rose off icy patches, lifted from frosty blades, even pulled out of thin air. They hovered, shaking slightly, sparkling till the field looked like a sky full of glowing drops. The noise? Wild - deep, vibrating tones he didn't just hear but sensed deep inside, like Dakota’s power had tuned into water’s hidden rhythm and started playing it. Those floating bits began turning, slow at first, then quicker, forming a swirling ring of wetness that curled around the two of them. The mist hit him before anything else - warmer than snow, damper, sticking to his coat in tiny drops that seeped deeper with every second. One side of him stayed sharp with cold, numb from the snowflakes landing hard on his back and legs, while up front, near his chest and shoulders, thick moist air curled like breath. His mane dragged down under the weight, strands glued together by damp. Beads of water clung to his eyelashes, crept into the fur inside his ears, turned everything he saw into hazy rings of glow. Even the air smelled different now - not only icy freshness - but earthy traces mixed in, wet rock, the slow stir of thawing streams beneath cracked ice. Still, it has been months since then. That thought slipped away, just like fog on a windowpane - now Juniper blinked into the now, rooted in the field, flakes piling up on his fur and hair. Feeling in his limbs? Gone. No clue how many minutes - or hours - he’d stayed frozen there. Movement near the trees made him look. Then came Dakota, wings pulled in close because of the chill - after that, Cordovi’s light figure appeared. Behind them trudged Pink Cashmere, stepping carefully over snow piles, then Laing showed up, Toxin right after. When they spotted him, they froze, eyeing each other. "How long has he been like this?" Pink Cashmere asked quietly. Dakota studied him with those ancient eyes. "He's caught between," the stallion said softly. "The warrior who's seen too much, and the part of him that still knows wonder." "He’s got no clue how to simply exist,” Cordovi said, softness in her tone showing she gets it. Toxin moved near, hooves breaking the frosty ground. Because she requires approval, "No," Pink Cashmere corrected, his gaze warm. "He needs us to show him it's safe to let go." They glanced at one another - some kind of silent knowing, no speech required. Slowly, each took a spot circling their icy companion. Juniper let out a breath - slow, shaky, heavy like it had been held too long. After endless battles, some knot inside finally eased up. First, his front legs gave in, hinges groaning faintly, sounds he’d missed from being wound tight for so damn long. He leaned ahead, weight tipping, till bone touched frost - the chill punched through fabric, bit into marrow quick and sharp. Snow folded under him with a hush, snapping lightly like dry salt, settling just right to hold his frame. His back legs came next, dropping awkwardly - not smooth at all - and just like that, he was on the ground, curled up tight, something he hadn’t done since he was young. The fighter inside him - the one who always held his body stiff, ready to strike - started letting go. It began near his shoulders, where a deep-seated ache had lived forever; now it melted away as his front half sank lower. Air moved through his ribs in a new pattern, slow and full, nothing like the quick gasps he used when watching for danger. Each inhale and exhale turned into something steady, his flanks puffing out into the chill, then deflating in soft bursts. He lowered his snout toward the snow until each flake looked clear - one small, detailed shape after another. Up close like this, there wasn’t much odor at all, only crisp emptiness, kind of like air so still it feels quiet, mixed with a hint of ice’s sharp edge. His pulse, which once roared during fights or long watches, eased into something calm, nearly peaceful. Heat gathered deep inside, his frame holding on to warmth since no energy got wasted staying alert. Being down like this - with stomach open, limbs pulled tight, face near ground - oughta scare him. Yet the quiet blanket of falling snow calmed every sound. His ears dropped down - not from anger, just peace. "I... this feels incredible," he said, nearly silent. His friends looked at each other - tender, aware, calm. Cordovi’s gaze was kind and deep, while Dakota gave silent strength. Pink Cashmere grinned; Toxin tilted her head slightly. They’d waited for this moment. Waited on him finally opening up, even if just a bit. Cordovi moved ahead, her horn sparking light. Around Juniper, soft glows took shape - shimmering moths that perched on his ears, then his snout, fading into tiny flashes. Dakota flared his wings, so the frost close to Juniper quivered, mist curling upward in slow loops. Pink Cashmere set his hooves down hard, heat spreading from below, a quiet throb, steady like a drum. Toxin stepped nearer; right then, the breeze carried a hint of spring - fresh-cut grass mixed with blooming weeds, strangely bright despite the icy chill. Soon after, Laing showed up, his power curling around everything, shifting the dropping flakes into wisps of gentle hues. He wasn’t just watching them - they pulled him into their world. Slowly, gently, they nudged him to drop his guard. Not pushing, but guiding, till he could finally relax. Join in. Unwind like a man who’d forgotten how. Step past that hardened shell, that old role he never questioned. Yet a part of Juniper - some piece he’d hidden deep for years - started to respond. No deals. Plus no owing. Also no rules. Juniper’s breath caught in his throat. War always demands payment. Winning buys loyalty, nothing else. Power grabs respect, no debate. Friendship? That took fights, wounds, proof - over, and over again. Yet here? Now things have changed. He meant something to them - not for victories, not due to power, smarts, or help he gave. Their bond came from who he truly was - the quiet piece stunned by grace, the bit uneasy taking without returning, the slice hidden under layers of defense and plans till even he lost track of its presence.