Dakota’s wings sliced the cold air next to him, steady flaps spitting out curls of frost that shimmered briefly before vanishing into nothing. Hooves - four belonging to Juniper, two ghostly ones to Dakota - pounded forward like wild drums on hushed ground, beating out raw delight. Over little hills they jumped at once; then came that floaty gap where your gut flips, just hanging there till the world yanked them down hard. Snow smashed under Juniper’s feet with a jolt sharp enough to rattle teeth, shaking right through his bones. A laugh burst free - he actually chuckled - and it ripped loose between gasps while Dakota howled back, his voice bouncing wide across the open field. Zipping through the open space, they left sharp curves behind, paths etching tales into untouched snow. Juniper slammed to a halt - back legs slipping forward, front ones locked tight, powder crashing up around his neck in a sudden rush. He shuddered hard, flinging off clumps of frost from his fur, his ears, even the thin skin stretched between his limbs. Melted bits sprayed outward, glinting under dimming rays like thrown sparks. His body swelled then sank with each gasp, ribs shifting clear beneath the coat, hot air puffing out in thick clouds that floated in the biting cold. Above, Cordovi’s visions flickered - ice-wolves moving smooth and quiet, starlit phoenixes flapping slow while dragging light behind, frost-covered bears standing high, mouths open but no noise coming out. Down below, Laing’s lights twisted overhead like fabric - green fading into deep blue, purple blending softly into pink. All around, Pink Cashmere’s ground marks lit up under each step, holding onto happy moments in glass-like patterns that hummed low and warm. Along the field’s borders, Toxin’s vines snaked outward, waking sleepy plants so pale flowers and blades peeked through white flakes, small dots of life pushing back against cold. By evening, the sky softened into pink and purple before fading to dark blue near the horizon. Cold crept back - Juniper noticed it draping over his flushed skin like a cool cloth, the clash between his feverish limbs and the sharp chill raising goosebumps under his wet jacket. Everything felt locked inside a clear quiet, voices and noise muted as though snow had swallowed every sound. He shuffled up beside the altar, losing track of why he came - the ring of stones heated by Pink Cashmere’s spell gave off warmth like a stove. He sank down by it, knees bending easily with that good tiredness, frost building in spots on his coat where sweat hadn’t kept it at bay. Juniper sensed his buddies even though he hadn’t looked - bodies warming the chill space, soft touches here and there. Dakota perched near his head, a wing spread over his back, the thin skin oddly cozy against him. Next to that, Cordovi planted herself by his side, bulk blocking the breeze, her breathing making his fur twitch. Up higher, Laing stayed nearby, just low enough for Juniper to notice the faint push of air from those see-through wings. Pink Cashmere pressed close to his back legs, firm and steady, his warmth slipping into his chilly muscles. Beside him, Toxin stood watchful, tendrils looping softly round his rear leg - no grip, simply there. Their breaths started matching up, each person’s lungs moving in step. As time passed, Juniper’s heartbeat eased from a rush to a calm, steady beat. Tightness melted out of his body, that old alertness warriors keep - now just fading away. A soft weariness crept through him, deep in the bones, warm like syrup. No flags waved, nor shouts echoed through the air - just stillness broken by faint crunches beneath wings and feet. The hush held steady, filled only by low breathing shared between them. From time to time, a body moved slightly, drawing nearer in silence. This tiredness felt new, Juniper noticed - not like war’s heavy drag, when muscles burned and your head throbbed from leftover fight energy. Nope, this was a light kind of worn out, full of good things: giggling till you couldn't breathe, dashing around just 'cause it felt great, getting magic instead of forcing it. "I've never seen you like this," Dakota murmured, his voice soft with wonder. "So... unguarded." "Warriors forget they're allowed to rest," Cordovi said gently, her muzzle brushing Juniper's ear. "That strength isn't only in standing." Pink Cashmere spoke up from right behind, hhi tone soft like sunbaked ground. He said he fit in - right there beside them instead of off on his own “This is power just the same,” Laing said - soft words drifting like air across glass - “not fighting it when someone holds you.” "Damn right it is," Toxin growled, though her vines tightened with unmistakable affection. "Took you long enough to figure it out." Juniper's throat tightened. "I was afraid," he admitted, the words barely audible. "Afraid to need anyone. To be... this." For ages he stayed stiff, like a knife ready to strike. He seized lands, beat foes, ruled the dark - yet never grasped how to accept. To uncurl his palms instead of tightening them shut. To allow care inside rather than blocking it with steel. "You don't have to be afraid anymore," Cordovi whispered. But Juniper trusted her words. They sank into quiet again, yet things had shifted - filled instead of hollow, together in it instead of alone. Snow kept drifting down; meanwhile, Juniper allowed himself to stay cradled. Juniper shut his eyes. As the sharp chill kissed his skin, snow fell silent - each flake touching down like a breath so faint it almost vanished. Against him, Dakota’s chest carried the leftover hum of laughter, warm and steady. Around them, their power moved - not loud, but deep - woven into wind and soil alike. Once, he’d believed awe was lost to him, along with small pleasures. But now? This moment beat every victory he'd ever claimed on war-torn ground. In the fading glow, Juniper murmured thanks - soft, barely there. His voice slipped into the field, lifted by a whisper-thin breeze, showing up briefly then vanishing. Snow curled around him like glass lace, yet this time he didn’t force the dark to follow orders. Instead, he allowed it to stay still. Above, the final streak of the rainbow faded into dusk. Beneath it, symbols on the stone flickered while one snowflake fell slow onto Juniper’s shut eye. Tiny spark - this moment meant change; his first winter touch showing cold hearts might soften after all. All around stood stillness, untouched quiet, different now.