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Description

“Alright, that should be the last of it!”

A scoop of icy snow flew out of the secret base entrance, followed by Tinsel’s powdered blue head. She edged outside and gave her small body a thorough shake to dislodge the icy crystals stuck on her hide, her collar jingling loudly with the action.

The Wyngling had woken up that morning with the usual expectation to visit her secret base, but hadn’t expected the blanket of cold white snow to be outside. She had tentatively reached out to touch it for the first time, flinching at the chill it sent up her paw, and a few short minutes later she’d been bouncing through the thick layer of powder without complain. It was surprisingly enjoyable to bounce around in the stuff.

She’d arrived and frowned with dismay to find her base buried, and had spent the last hour shovelling the snow out with her bare paws. Now finished, Tinsel sat down in the snow outside with a crunch, tucking her paws under her arms to warm them for a moment, as they’d gone a bit numb after awhile of digging.

“Pretty prickly out here, huh Tiny?” She flicked her eyes at the ground next to her, pausing for the imaginary response, “like, the air. It’s prickly. Cold and prickly.” She absently watched the words billow out as puffs of mist from her mouth, and sat in the silence of the blanketed area for a bit. She rolled a pile of the snow in front of her with one paw and let it build up in size as it rolled. Tinsel’s eyes began to sparkle as an idea came to mind.

“Hey Tiny…” she murmured to the empty space near the base entrace, “remember how we overheard those other Wynglings talking about making people out of snow? Well I had a thought...what if I made a person out of this stuff...to guard the secret base when we’re not here?” Silence, which Tinsel took as a confirmation, “yeah, I thought you’d agree!”

The little blue Wyngling got to work, rolling around her snowball until it doubled in size. She pushed the large ball off to the side of the entrance, and turned around to repeat the action for a head. Once one was made, she managed to half-lift, half-roll it onto the top of the other snowball, squashing its base a little underneath.

Tinsel sat down in front of it to review her work, mouth drawn down in a small frown, “Well, he’s not very...expression-y.” She muttered, eyes flitting around at the surrounding area. Her ears perked as she spotted a stick jutting out of the ground near the tree, thin and frozen. She returned with it in her mouth and stabbed it into the body, its branching end looking like spindly claws.

Getting the hang of the art of snowman-making, Tinsel dashed back and forth between random spots nearby and her snow monster, the sound of her jingling collar the only thing to break the silence of the snowy atmosphere. She’d planted dark stones into the face to make up eyes and a mouth, found frosty leaves to make antennae-looking appendages, and a slightly shorter stick for the other arm.
“Sorry about this, good sir,” she huffed to the snow monster, looking a bit dismayed at the awful asymmetry of its arms, “it was the best one I could find.” Aside from the arms, the snow monster now had a distinct frowning face, but Tinsel still felt something was off.

“He looks sad, Tiny,” she murmured toward the tree. Her face mimicked the snow monster’s expression, and her face set in a glare, “ah, I know! He needs eyebrows!” her face returned to normal as she dashed off, finding two tiny twigs to stick above the creature’s pebble eyes.

“Now he’s done!” Tinsel cried triumphantly, circling her snow guard with pride, “his name is Sir Snowy Iceman, and he guards the official Tinsel and Tiny Secret Base. Any who dare to come close will feel the wrath of his Big Claw!” She announced to nobody, gesturing at the larger, spindly stick protruding from the snow guard’s side.

Despite the freezing cold, Tinsel stayed out all day at her secret base, the sound of her playful jingling the only sound to echo through the area.

(1 fullbody / background / story / weekly prompt)

7/40

Description

“Alright, that should be the last of it!”

A scoop of icy snow flew out of the secret base entrance, followed by Tinsel’s powdered blue head. She edged outside and gave her small body a thorough shake to dislodge the icy crystals stuck on her hide, her collar jingling loudly with the action.

The Wyngling had woken up that morning with the usual expectation to visit her secret base, but hadn’t expected the blanket of cold white snow to be outside. She had tentatively reached out to touch it for the first time, flinching at the chill it sent up her paw, and a few short minutes later she’d been bouncing through the thick layer of powder without complain. It was surprisingly enjoyable to bounce around in the stuff.

She’d arrived and frowned with dismay to find her base buried, and had spent the last hour shovelling the snow out with her bare paws. Now finished, Tinsel sat down in the snow outside with a crunch, tucking her paws under her arms to warm them for a moment, as they’d gone a bit numb after awhile of digging.

“Pretty prickly out here, huh Tiny?” She flicked her eyes at the ground next to her, pausing for the imaginary response, “like, the air. It’s prickly. Cold and prickly.” She absently watched the words billow out as puffs of mist from her mouth, and sat in the silence of the blanketed area for a bit. She rolled a pile of the snow in front of her with one paw and let it build up in size as it rolled. Tinsel’s eyes began to sparkle as an idea came to mind.

“Hey Tiny…” she murmured to the empty space near the base entrace, “remember how we overheard those other Wynglings talking about making people out of snow? Well I had a thought...what if I made a person out of this stuff...to guard the secret base when we’re not here?” Silence, which Tinsel took as a confirmation, “yeah, I thought you’d agree!”

The little blue Wyngling got to work, rolling around her snowball until it doubled in size. She pushed the large ball off to the side of the entrance, and turned around to repeat the action for a head. Once one was made, she managed to half-lift, half-roll it onto the top of the other snowball, squashing its base a little underneath.

Tinsel sat down in front of it to review her work, mouth drawn down in a small frown, “Well, he’s not very...expression-y.” She muttered, eyes flitting around at the surrounding area. Her ears perked as she spotted a stick jutting out of the ground near the tree, thin and frozen. She returned with it in her mouth and stabbed it into the body, its branching end looking like spindly claws.

Getting the hang of the art of snowman-making, Tinsel dashed back and forth between random spots nearby and her snow monster, the sound of her jingling collar the only thing to break the silence of the snowy atmosphere. She’d planted dark stones into the face to make up eyes and a mouth, found frosty leaves to make antennae-looking appendages, and a slightly shorter stick for the other arm.
“Sorry about this, good sir,” she huffed to the snow monster, looking a bit dismayed at the awful asymmetry of its arms, “it was the best one I could find.” Aside from the arms, the snow monster now had a distinct frowning face, but Tinsel still felt something was off.

“He looks sad, Tiny,” she murmured toward the tree. Her face mimicked the snow monster’s expression, and her face set in a glare, “ah, I know! He needs eyebrows!” her face returned to normal as she dashed off, finding two tiny twigs to stick above the creature’s pebble eyes.

“Now he’s done!” Tinsel cried triumphantly, circling her snow guard with pride, “his name is Sir Snowy Iceman, and he guards the official Tinsel and Tiny Secret Base. Any who dare to come close will feel the wrath of his Big Claw!” She announced to nobody, gesturing at the larger, spindly stick protruding from the snow guard’s side.

Despite the freezing cold, Tinsel stayed out all day at her secret base, the sound of her playful jingling the only sound to echo through the area.

(1 fullbody / background / story / weekly prompt)

7/40