Ice flakes dancing under the moonlight, so beautiful. The moment they disappear into the air is as elegant as light feathers. Parallel icy trails gradually fracture, with Ivan traveling through the darkness like a lone fish.
The Frost Wanderer has not reached his destination, the anomaly ahead forces him to stop. The cold air escaping from the head of his spiritual body gradually settles, he pulls the reins tight, adjusting the hat on his head. That hat is part of his spiritual body, though he could control it with a mere thought, Ivan enjoys this ritualistic feel, especially when facing an old friend, as it makes him nostalgic for the past.
"How long has it been since I last saw you like this, Vaul?"
