Chapter Text
It starts quiet in this city, streets relatively barren as the residents are away or inside their homes, the thrill of business only starting as the sun sets. As the early night sets in, the chill of the past new moon breathes life into the marketplace, lights of stalls and towering buildings flick on just as the people begin to crave their warm meals and hot drinks. Chatter arises as reptilian folk begin to flow into the corridor of stores, drowning out the faint sound of the freshly fallen rain clapping against his boots as Morning Frost, travelling alone, steps through each dirty puddle on the rocky street. The hood of his jade green robe over his head and arms tucked, he moves cautiously but inquisitively through the unfamiliar city. He wades between eager tortles, lizardfolk, and dragonborn, each ordering and waiting for their unique edibles. Frost, curious, skims some of the menus as he passes by, then slows as he finds a stall serving tea. Not seeing any suspicious activity, he caves and orders a simple tea.
“One silver piece, please.” speaks the raspy old lizardfolk. Frost fumbles through his pockets for a second, before placing down a clean silver piece and sliding it forward. They place down a carved wood mug of a clear, pinkish tea, then take the silver. “Thanks.” They croak as Frost takes the mug, nodding his head, then steps away, rubbing his fingers on the edges, looking over the craft. He hides a slight smile by taking a sip. It’s sweet, floral, and very pleasant. In his moment, he bumps into a young lizardfolk passing in front of him.
“OW! Hey!!” The boy flares up the bright orange frill around his neck, hissing. “Watch where you’re going!”
“Sorry, I- I apologise, I didn’t see you. Are you alright?” The boy scoffs, flattening his frill again and runs off, followed by a young dark Dragonborn and long-beaked Aaracockra. Frost squints, tilting his head to try to see the group of children before they disappear into the crowds, but he halts as the wind carries in the sound of distant sobbing. Frost’s ears flick around to try locate the direction of the sound, looking around and realising he’s the only person to hear it. He steps forward, spotting an alleyway used for dumping, the sound is slightly louder. He continues forward. Amongst the sobbing, there’s coughing, panting, murmuring. Walking slowly, he listens close, until hear hears faraway,
“Mommy…!”
A sharp inhale, slightly clenched teeth, Frost closes his eyes. … An exhale, and a clatter and splash as tea spills into the concrete cracks, he leaps forward. With the smallest movement of his finger, a fallen bin crashes upright against the brick corridor. Pat, pat, pat as his boots clash into the dirty puddles, he skids and slams his palms into the oncoming wall to rebound himself. Tail flicking, Frost manages to control his breathing and slowly twitch his ears to locate the crying again, hoping, almost praying, that the thought of a trap would be false. Behind him. He steps around himself cautiously, looking down a dead end alley of apartments. He narrows his eyes with a sigh, as his vision adjusts to form the blur crying on the ground into what it is, a child in rags. They’re hunched, curled into a ball, slightly struggling to breathe through their sobs. Frost looks to the corners, the doors, the rooftops, then back to the child, lingering with empathy. He takes a careful step forward, crouching slightly.
“Hello…?” They freeze, falling forward but catching themself. Their clothes reveal fresh blood around the legs. Frost clenches his lips at the sight. “Are- are you alright?” As they gently turn, a matted white leopard tail unfurls from around their legs. Frost silently scoffs. Two tear-filled eyes look at him, they widen, then squint with a head tilt. Frost steps his right foot back, then kneels to get to the child’s height. He takes off his hood and tilts his head down. “Show me where you’re hurt, I can fix it.” They’re still. Frost breathes slowly, as if trying to not scare a stray cat. “I… please…?”
“...you won't hurt me?” the kid speaks in the smallest, most pained voice he’s ever heard.
“No, no. I- look.” He thinks for a moment, then brings his left hand to his mouth and bites it. The child shuffles away, breath quickening and watching, shaking as blood begins to roll down his fingertips and claws. Frost lowers a slightly shaking hand to his other, and with a warm green glow from his left palm and robe, the hole in his hand twitches and gathers into clots and flesh, skin and fur spreading over and not even leaving a scar. The kid watches his face, pure neutral, a bit cold… but not even a flinch. He looks back to them, wiping the blood off his hand and lips and attempting a slight smile. They look over his hand again, then shift their legs around, wincing in pain.
“...okay.” Flicking off their hood, Frost looks over the soft face of the child. Yes, a Tabaxi, a girl, one with colours he’d rarely seen. Pure white, that he could see through the dirt, with cloudy grey splotches and small stripes. Shiny blue eyes, filled with worry and uneasy trust. His ears lower. As she lifts up the edges of her coat, needing to slightly peel the wet patches of fabric away from the wound, the full laceration is revealed. It’s deep, multiple gashes like claw or teeth marks, blood rising from the layers of muscle and fat like freshly butchered meat. The dirty white fur is heavy, deep red from the blood, and torn away around the area into loose ribbons as if it was a gift unwrapped at a party. Definitely didn’t feel like a party though, Frost was shocked how this kid was still conscious. He felt a little sick, and reached out to fix it quickly. The child flinched, pulling away her leg to protect it. Frost pulls his hand back, thinking about his breath. He swallows, looks to the child again. Thinking of her pain, he then reaches out slowly, carefully. Palm open over the wound, he closes his eyes. The green glow returns, rising from his robe and swirling in the air around the two. The gashes crawl together, linking and weaving back into their places, almost zipping themselves up. Burning sparkles, slowdancing with each other, distracting the child from the pain for a moment, until it’s all gone. Frost stumbles back, leg buckling into a sit, panting and eyes faded. The kid jumps up to him, surprised at the strength of her fixed leg, she smiles.
“You really fixed it… you…” She crouches, wrapping her arms around his neck. Still slightly out of it, he raises a shaking hand and taps her on the back.
“You’re… very welcome…” As she lets go, he places his hand to his rising chest, pulling away his shirt from his neck, swallowing a glob of saliva. She stands, fidgeting with her hands as she watches him. “Do you- *hah*... want something?”
“I’m waiting.”
“...Okay… For what?”
“What’s your name?”
“...Ah, right.” He exhales, his energy finally catching up to his heart and lungs. Pushing on his knees, he stands back to his steady feet. “Hello, my name is Morning Frost, but you can call me Frost. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I didn’t start with that. I… Perhaps I was just too worried about you. Are you feeling better? A bit early to be putting weight on that leg again, but you seem to be doing alright.” She watches him, almost mesmerised.
“Where’re you from?”
“... I’m passing through, I’m a… somewhat regular citizen of a city called Agwé, with my party. Have you heard of it?”
“No. How’d you learn the sparkles? Can you teach me?” She holds out her hands to Frost's face. His ear flicks.
“Sparkles? You… do you mean my spell? Uh, I’m not sure if I can teach you, It’s hard to explain, I… I have to get going, as well.” Frost spins on his heel and steps forward to the opening of the alley, the girl skips up to keep up with him, standing at his side.
“I didn’t know we could do spells! I could finally teach those bullies a lesson! Hi-yah!” She starts to punch the air. Frost takes another step forward.
“Well, it was nice to-” She skips in front of him.
“Oh! You could beat ‘em up! Show them that us kitties aren’t weak! We aren’t!!” Frost sighs, looking down to the cub, now bouncing excitedly on the spot.
“Where are your parents? Do you need me to help find them?”
“Yes, help! Not for them though, they’d be long gone. Let’s kill those bullies!! Hah! Hah!” She kicks the air, stumbling slightly, but falls onto an invisible force, which places her upright again. Frost leans down to the girl, frowning.
“If your bullies are also kids, I cannot kill them. I’ll… give them a stern talking to. Teach them the importance of-”
“No! You saw what they did to my leg! They tried to kill me, why can’t we do that to them?!” Frost’s ears turn back, and he places a hand onto the girls’ head.
“Because then we’d be no better than them. Do you want to be more evil than the villain?” The girl lowers her fists, sighing. She shakes her head, looking to her feet. “Okay.” He stands again. “If you want to follow me around, I might as well know your name. Hmmm?”
“No.” Frost furrows a brow. The girl grabs the edges of her coat. “I- don’t want you to call me that. Everyone uses it to make fun of me. I want a real name.” Frost tilts his head, bringing his hand to his bearded chin.
“...well. I’m not the most… creative of people, but… if you’d like, I can help you find another name.” He smiles softly. Her eyes light up, and she begins to bounce on the spot again.
“Yes! Yes! I do!!” She smiles widely, showing her fanged mouth, scary to some, but to Frost, she was adorable.
“Let’s have a little walk, then. That usually helps me with ideas. Stay with me, okay?” He flicks up his hood, the girl mimics him, adjusting her ragged coat and skipping along to try and keep up with the tiger’s striding steps, as the two return to the market together.