His sight got fuzzy. His ribs pressed hard, way too crowded - like a frozen part of him had finally split apart. Because he’d always feared kindness, feared relying on someone, he almost didn’t see it at all. Almost walked right past them. A lump rose in his throat, ready to spill out - Pink Cashmere’s gentle nose skimmed his cheek, his warm breath tickling his face. Yet when she murmured “It’s alright,” his hooves barely grazing him, something shifted. That cry twisted into laughter - not loud, but deep - mixing sorrow with awe as Juniper let go, weeping while he chuckled, a burst of raw happiness cracking open old stillness. Juniper lifted up, shaking to the rhythm of raw balance. His gaze touched everyone - Dakota’s mischievous smile, then Cordovi’s eager spark, Laing’s quiet strength after that, Pink Cashmere’s loyal focus, finally Toxin’s dry nod. They formed an open ring, every one holding power like it was their core. “This,” Juniper muttered, voice rougher than usual - “feels bigger than any victory. I - ” Words slipped away. The warrior inside him stumbled sideways. “Snow like this? Yeah… it gets me.” A hundred gentle snowflakes floated into the ring, settling on every snout. Yet this time - he dropped low. Back then, during battles, that’d never happen. Cold pierced his top fur fast - those thick outer hairs barely helped - and crept inward, reaching the fluffy layer beneath, nudging right up to his body heat. Sharp chill hit hardest along his sides, where bones neared skin, each inhale pushing his frame into icy earth. His pale side dipped deep into the loose snow, while the flakes packed down under his body with a quiet crackle - he both sensed it and picked up the sound, like a gentle pushback hugging him close. He dropped heavily, letting out a relaxed breath, yet his bat-like wings opened fully, their surfaces pulling tight; the delicate tissue instantly noticed the shift in warmth - icy burn on snowy spots, prickles of coolness wherever exposed to open air. Dakota dropped down next to him, eyes crinkling with quiet laughter. "Making snow angels?" he said, lowering himself backward like it was some delicate move. He started swinging his arms and legs slowly, carving out soft wing shapes in the white layer. "Watch - this is how it’s done." Juniper barked a laugh - startling birds nearby who scattered fast. Flipping backward, he hit the ground hard; an icy chill shot up his back, then down his stomach, leaving soft spots wide open to air and frost. His feet flailed around, moving unlike anything seen in fights before. No sudden rush like charging ahead, no tight guard posture either - just loose joy, kinda silly, really. Husky gusts of motion carved trails across the drifts, thin skins fighting gritty pushback, sparking a weird kind of thrill. Snow wasn't flat or dull - it shifted. Fluffy bits up top slid smooth on his hide, packed zones below resisted hard, while jagged sheets now and then grated with brittle snaps. He rolled, kicked out wildly, gasping not from strain yet buzzing with wild delight. After clawing upright on stiff legs, flakes stuck everywhere - heated spots dripped slow, chilled zones held solid - and he stood winded, lungs pumping, mouth stretched wide in a lopsided laugh. “Would rather wreck yours than my own,” he wheezed, jerking loose a burst of frosty mist. Cordovi moved ahead, her horn shining with a strange glow that twisted what’s real. She tapped his shoulder - then he saw it: a fake ice version of himself, only changed. Instead of spots, vines and spikes grew from his sides, turning the fighter into something like a wild garden. Light passed through the figure, splitting into colorful pieces that flickered over the white ground. Magic pressed softly on his fur, a warmth underneath, making his mane prickle even though it looked icy. The illusion had a smell like dawn in winter - sharp, fresh, maybe even ghostly, as if moonbeams could leave a trace. While he stared at it twisting away into nothing, his vision blurred; tears slipped down but stiffened fast from heat to frost, thin trails burning then locking cold. Laing stepped forward, moving slow but smooth. With a sweep through the air just above Juniper’s head, out came a crystal shape - detailed like petals, though built from frost and glow. Drifting down, it landed in his thick hair, weaving itself in without burning, even though it was freezing near his scalp. A quiet sound buzzed from the shard - not loud, more like a tremor you taste in your jawbone or sense behind your ribs. That shimmer from before? Still there inside, flickering now and then. Juniper caught the tangy whiff of ozone - crisp, alive - twisting through the cold stone aroma of high-altitude frost. A soft buzz prickled his skin right where the gem met his head, sort of like tiny sparks slipping under his collar. Pink Cashmere stepped ahead, so the ground under Juniper’s feet stirred. A low vibration hit him first - rumbling up his legs, filling his chest, syncing with his heartbeat like a hidden rhythm. The stone altar flared brighter; then clarity struck - he was being linked to it, tied into the rock, down to the solid layers beneath frozen soil. Heat sparked in his hooves, creeping through muscle and marrow, an anchoring warmth standing firm against the surrounding chill. The feeling grounded him deep, like roots spreading through soil, tying him here more than any other spot ever had. It wasn't just sight - he caught the scent of damp rock and thick soil, even sensed its flavor lingering behind his teeth - old, quiet, still standing. At last, Toxin slipped forward quiet as ever - meanwhile, the ivy clinging to her ankles stirred. Those thin vines crept out slow, almost testing, wrapping light around Juniper’s front leg, chilly and a bit wet, bumpy with mini leaves that brushed soft. Each spot they landed on tingled - strange yet kind of nice, more like waking up. A faint green glow pulsed from the plant; right then, she caught scents of sprouting life - sticky juice, young greens, deep earth from shaded woods. It smelled like life hanging on tight despite the cold, yet it stirred something deep inside him. Nature’s glow seemed hopeful, almost like warmer days hidden under frost; meanwhile, her leg tingled where the vine curled around - soft, quiet, giving without asking. Juniper shook, though the chill wasn't why - waves of feeling hit him instead. Every sense lit up at once: sore limbs from roughhousing earlier, damp creeping through his jacket, a soft heat rising from Pink Cashmere’s power and green vines brushing skin, sparks dancing under Laing’s stone, even Cordovi’s make-believe weight lingering near his collarbone. Not war-tired, this fatigue - heavy, sure, but warm. Like after telling stories late into night. Pulse racing, yeah - but no fight here; just a swell behind his ribs making words stick and eyes water slightly. When the loop finished, Juniper faced Dakota. "Another one?" he said, gaze lively. Because that’s what they both wanted - Dakota smiled wide and gave a quick yes. They shot ahead together - suddenly everything moved fast. Juniper’s feet smashed the thin ice on top of the snow every step, that sharp snap when it cracked under pressure. Loose flakes flew up beside him like sparkles, sticking briefly in the thick hair near his ankles before warmth wiped them away. His legs strained hard, thighs pushing strong behind, front limbs pulling ahead without pause. The freezing wind hit raw each time he sucked in air, chest pumping heavy - but inside he felt hot, smoke drifting off his speckled hide where sweat broke out by his sides and back.