Owned by:  smallboot

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The crisp cold notes of music flit through the air like frost-winged fae-things as her careful clawed fingers pull and draw the well-worn bow across the singing strings of her moon-pale violin. The song is somber and slow to start, but builds and throbs in the chilly air of her solitary cabin; the tempo begins to speed, the music flowing through her as though she exists to be no more than a conduit for the serene sound.

As she plays, it carries her away. It drowns her, blotting out the rest of the world so completely, she may as well be leagues beneath the icy waters that sprawl around her little huddled home.

In her music (and in her dreams) she is allowed to forget.

Winter takes the tourists off the languid beaches and bars the explorers from the surrounding caves, and it is her favorite time of year. It allows the comfortable solitude to be her soul companion as she wonders, exploring the clean cold natural beauty that wreaths her home.

She considers taking such a trip, when her tired fingers finally abandon her sated violin. She plays with the thought while she scribbles a new melody upon the expectant papers waiting upon her neatly kept desk. There is no one to play for, and that is mostly fine.

Mostly.

She has had enough time to grow comfortable with the contradiction of enjoying the quiet of solitude and feeling the faint prickles of loneliness. Loneliness, after all, is a much safer state of existence. The urge to venture out and find No One is an odd and faintly unsettling ache.

The pale cream-colored fox takes extra care in placing away her violin; she tucks it into its case like putting a delicate infant to sleep. A sigh rolls past her fangs, flows over the single jeweled labret piercing through her bottom lip. Fine then, an exploratory stroll to stave off this restlessness.

Her fur has adapted to the winter’s chill, her coat bolstered with additional downy fluff; still, she moves to grab her lucky pink sweater as she heads towards the door; the garment is comforting beyond hushing the cold. She holds it for a moment before crawling comfortably into it; it smells like clean laundry and sharp cinnamon.

But the demure digimon’s trek is abruptly ended before it begins, when she slides open the front door and finds something completely unexpected awaiting her attention.

Of all the stray things that could have wandered to her door, in a fair search of food or warmth, she never would have expected to find a goldfish. The little glimmering dollop of scales is listing in lethargic circles at the bottom of his glass bowl, and the teal-haired fox is quick to notice the frost sitting in pretty white rings at the lip of his watery home.

She moves without thought or hesitation; ice-pale paws carefully snatch up the bowl and bring it inside. She could allow the warmth of her home to fell the threatening ice, but instead, she draws the threads of frosty magic through her fingers and pulls the ice away with her innate mastery of the element.

Almost instantly, the small golden fish perks up, fins splayed in a flourish that she likes to imagine could be a sign of gratitude.

“Who brought you here, little one?” she speaks, gleaming blue eyes pouring over the precious pet. Then, feeling a distinct lack of the aching restlessness that originally bid her to leave, she continues to the diminutive fish,

“Let me play something on my violin to cheer you up.”

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This is the resulting foxy lady created from my Frost Dreaming Mood Board! NSFW version included for the owner!~

Want a $10 Mystery Mood Board Adopt from me? Check here!~ Many Add-Ons and Customization Options available!~

Thanks very much for the view!~ I hope you enjoyed my creation ^_^