Rainimator Oneshots! (And other stuff)

Snow, Sky & Clouds (Frostbourne Trio, not rly romance)

Winter... It is beautiful. It is home. It is where he was born and raised, where he lives. All his life he has known snow, held it fast, it is part of what he is. Patrick contemplates this as he stares out of the window, pressing a hand against the ice-cold glass. The war was over... but at what cost? They had lost so many... Dexter, Theo, Hilda... and Astra.

Gazing at the snow that blanketed the ground, he flinched. All he saw was splatters of crimson, his gaze blurring in and out of focus as he watched her stand up shakily. To face the Nether King. Alone.

I don't want to kill anyone else.

He remembers her saying that. She didn't come back after that battle.

The war is over now, everything feels so different. For once, he mused, wandering to the balcony and tilting his head slightly up to the sky. For once the snow feels colder than ever.

Guys! Snowball fight!

How does one still stay so happy despite all the losses they have to go through? Her purple eyes always gleamed with amusement, bringing a smile even to Theo's face. He hardly saw her cry. And... she made Daryll happy. The way the bandit laughed when he was with her, no one else could make him do that but her.

The day the war ended, it snowed as well. The tiny flakes drifted to the ground, dotting the lush, deep green of the spruce with white. It sparkled, glittered. It was breath-taking, but the rush of peace that flooded him was even better. He had hugged Azura tight, feeling her body shake as she cried. Everything was over... he had let a few tears slip from his eyes as the both of them embraced.

Then, the three of them, Patrick, Azura and Daryll, had gone to the snow-capped hill just away from Dreadfort. Continued on to the mountain, scaled it in a few days. And as they finally stood at the top, looking upon the glimmering, snowy expanse of taiga before them, the mountains flanking the valley's each side, a snaking river weaving through the landscape, Patrick had never seen so much snow. Snow that melded in so perfectly with the scenery it looked as though it was pulled out of a fairytale.

He watched as Daryll fell to his knees, letting out a cry. A shout of agony, grief and loss. The bandit looked so lost, so alone, just like a singular cloud drifting in the large, empty sky.

He watched as Azura started to cry, tears trickling down her face like rain pouring from the sky. Her eyes, which held a depth that reminded Patrick of the sky, showed the full extent of her self-blame as he held her, gazing out at the sky.

Snow gradually started falling down, the tiny, freezing flecks engulfing the trio as they mourned, the snow their blanket that hugged them as they grieved... for the ones who fell.

Yes, the snow is part of him, Patrick decides.

And yet... each first day of winter would never bring him such inexplicable joy as before.

Not anymore.

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It darkens, it dims, it mourns, it even weeps.

But it still brightens everyday.

The sky. A place of freedom, the area where she can truly be at ease. It was like she was created to seek out the sky.

To fly.

She enters a well-practised spin, then a flip. The wind whooshing in her ears reflects the blood rushing through her veins as she tucks in her wings and dives towards the land, swooping up a few moments later. Her wings glow, pulsating a light blue that mirrors her hair. Azura smiles. She's where she belongs. She's home. It has all ended now. She can take those long flights that she always longed to go on.