Snow heaved a dissapointed after stepping out of the hot springs. A festival was in store, or so Lyall had announced. His body was wet , and a bit worn from the days hunt but he clothed himself appropriatly. Commotion was occuring all around him but in a way everything was at a standstill. Dark rock lined the walls creating a very appealing feel for those that wanted privacy. Chatter, and cheers surround him even from the hotsprings.<br/><br/>A foreboding feeling overwhelmed him as if the earth itself could not fight all darkness away. He blinked and for a moment saw a raven in full flight behind his eyes. The raven was a curse to have as a spirit. This animal deemed him to forever be whispered about as a cold child bleed into darkness. Solitude for life was the one part of him that would be fought till the earth freezed over.<br/><br/>Often times a conversation with the shamen woud pass through as if a shamen could fix everything. Honestly avoiding the shamen has worked well for him. He passed the hordes of dancers, and through a narrow area to make his way to the small incline that could be called a room inside the cave. The interior of the incline had a few fur blankets placed on the sides, with a fur blanket on the floor as well. A incave carve which became the shape of a bed rested on the left side of the room.<br/><br/>He took a small carving knife a began to etch into the wall a picture of a free flying raven with eyes of steel. By steel they would end up looking completely white. No one would bother him since celebrations just lead to more rumors.