Just a "little" chilly

It was cold here, as it always was, but after many years of harsh winters, Jaro was unbothered by it. Or rather, he seemed as if he was unbothered by it. In reality, he was still shivering, cold to the bone, but his thick draft build was keeping him at least decently warm, or at least, as warm as comeone could be in Iceacre. It was impossible to ever be warm here. The landscape had a constant layer of snow upon it, though right now, that layer was wearing thing and dead earth could be seen peeking through the white. What had drawn him to this region, Jaro wasn't sure, but something in him made him think that today was a good day to visit probably the coldest place in all of the lands. Of course, the royal figure was regretting it now, but he was never one to give up so he kept wandering. Each breath made a cloud of mist form in front of his nostrils, a tell-tale sign of just how cold it was. He licked his lips, feeling the saliva cool against the scarred pink skin. What the hell had been the point in coming here? He should just turn ba-

Thud.

Well, now. That was interesting. He looked over, crimson eyes focusing on the slender figure of another equine, landed on their side after what he assumed they had just fallen over. Jaro arched a brow, drawing himself into a halt as he observed the stranger. What was such a slim beast doing in a place like this? Didn't they know they would freeze to death if they stayed too long? Holding back a chuckle, the brute began to stalk forward. An imposing beast of nineteen hands, Jaro was sure he would spook this other brujo. They didn't belong here. In fact, from the way their mane and tail was all tangled and matted, Jaro had a sneaking suspicion that this boy was on the run. "Causing a ruckus, boy?" he hissed, staring down at the smaller equine. Was he timid? Or was he going to be mouthy? It had been some time since Jaro last handed out a beating... maybe now could be the perfect day for one.

Jaro wondered what this boy, because to him, he really was just a boy, was doing out here all alone. He seemed much too... timid? to be a part of Fosc. He held himself like a slave. His whole demeanor was very... awkward. Like he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. Jaro glared down at him, his hulking form casting the other stallion into partial shadow. Red eyes seemed to gleam with devious intent as he looked upon him, scarred lips lifted into a sneer. "Foos...HI!" Beneath the ram skull that adorned his head, Jaro arched a brow, snorting. He did not return the greeting but waited in silence for the brute to explain himself. He better do it quickly. Jaro had never been known for his patience, and never would be. He was not a patient man. When he asked a question, he expected an answer right then and there. And not only that, he expected the truth. Should he find out you were lying... it was beating time. And Jaro was never easy with his beatings. He never took it easy on anyone.

The boy lowered his head and avoided eye contact. Was he afraid? The way he had frozen to the spot the instant Jaro had spoken led the draft brute to believe that he was. "I.. I'm not causing a ruckus... I just accidentally slipped... and fell." A harsh laugh fell from the behemoth's maw, a near cackle, his ombre banner snapping against his flank. "Little man can't keep his footing, eh?" he teased, taking a half-step closer to the smaller equine. Not for any particular reason other than to fuck with him, really. "It is really frosty and slippery..." Had this guy never seen snow before? What had he expected, coming to Iceacre? "Were you expecting summer grass beneath your feet, sunshine?" His brows lifted and he arched his neck, aiming those ram horns right at the smaller equine, his eyes peering out from the eye sockets of the skull. "What's your name, boy? You don't seem like you belong here."

A frigid winter breeze brushed past the duo. Jaro's withers twitched, the smallest of shivers, his black mane fluttering against his thick, scarred neck. The frosted tips of his tail danced between his feathered hind legs and he stood in silence, observing this obvious slave. Who was he? What was his name? Who did he belong to? Was he a runaway, or had he been set free? Jaro had half a mind to bring him back to Fosc lands and sell him off, or trade him for something, or someone, more useful. What use could this boy possibly be? He was an awkward thing. Seemed too frail, too stupid, to be of any real use. But maybe he could bring him some wealth of some sort. And even if he didn't, it was still always fun to drag a slave back to the city, kicking and screaming. Would this boy kick and scream? Would he resist? Would he cry? A sickening smile began to spread across the roan sabino's maw, ears swiveling to listen around them. They were all alone. Jaro could do whatever he wanted (he typically did, anyway). Being a retired and respected Shadow Knight as well as part of the royal Fosc family kind of gave him free reign as to doing whatever it was he wanted to do, and the eleven-year-old liked to use that to his advantage. Frequently. Whenever he could.

The boy seemed to get a sudden burst of confidence, holding himself with a bit more confidence, and Jaro couldn't help but give a hearty chuckle. Oh, really now? Was he going to get tough? Jaro had seen much more terrifying things in his life than a slave with some pep in his step. "No Sir, I didn't expect rainbows and sunshine with little bunnies bouncing around. It is winter in the entire land... I was let go my by former msater after my mothers death and have bean roaming sense. I didn't know exactly what to expect and am merely curing my natural curiosity about my own world. Is that such a bad thing, to explore and learn when given the chance?" The Fosc royal studied the boy in silence, keeping his breathing even despite his annoyance building. His tail did give a small twitch - a subtle warning sign. Watch your mouth, boy. "Plus Mr Fosc sir....." Did he really have no idea who he was? This poor bastard. Did he pay no attention to those that ranked way up above him? "I don't think even you have never tripped or slipped on something before in your life. No one is perfect and if you claim to be then your not being to honest with your self are you?"

The silence stretched between them and then Jaro was laughing again, throwing his head back before taking another step towards the slave, aiming one of the ram horns directly at the boy's jugular. "You better watch your mouth, boy. Do you even know who I am, you poor bastard?" His voice was a low growl, a warning, but it still held a hint of amusement. This boy was lucky. "Tell me your name. That's a command."

Jaro was amused by this strange, almost colt-like brute. Normally, Jaro didn't find amusement from brattiness - perhaps it was because this guy reminded him of a child. Not that he particularily liked children, he'd beaten children before for not following the damn rules, but he was a bit more lenient with them. He wondered how old this guy actually was? A couple of years? Perhaps he just looked younger because he was so frail and disheveled looking, what with his tangled mane and tail and all that. Jaro's own mane and tail were in pristine condition, as was his body, aside from the ample amount of scars that he had. Some of the larger scars still ached from time to time, but he was able to ignore the pain. The actual injuries had hurt more than some pain from scarring. Most notable, perhaps, was the deep scar on his lower chest from where a ram's horn had torn him open, nearly killing him. It was the same ram whose skull he wore upon his head - a gift given to him by the Shadow Knights for going out of his way to save from Fosc youth when he was many years younger. Jaro was now retired and played his role as mentor to new Shadow Knights, weeding out the weaklings and making the tough, tougher. He amused himself for a moment with putting this puny little guy through Shadow Knights training. The thought made a huff of laughter leave the mighty draft behemoth. Yeah, right. This guy wouldn't last a day.

The way that the boy craned his neck around to avoid the horn that was aimed at his jugular made Jaro give another roar of laughter, lifting his head away from the brute with a smirk on his lips. So the kid was flexible. How... boring. "No I don't know who you are Sir, I haven't known much of anything for a few years...considering I was a slave, now unowned, and have no ability to gain access to most places to get any information." Jaro tsked his tongue, shaking his head. He figured even a lowly slave would have been kept up to date on the royal family, especially about someone like himself. He was important to the Fosc community - or at least, that's what he told himself and believed, anyway. "Your owner was an idiot, then, if they didn't at least inform you about the royal family," he said, a brow arching, unseen, beneath the skull that adorned his head. "Jaro," he finally introduced himself, wondering if maybe his name would ring a bell if his appearance alone didn't. He made sure all of his own slaves knew who everyone important was - and he also knew each of them by name. He'd always thought names were important. They were a part of history, even if the only one that would ever know them was himself. They were a part of his history, and he wanted them all to have names that he could remember - even if they were only used to mock them.

"It's Tanner, but Why would my name matter to you?" The Fosc snorted, tail switching against his flank. "I thought Fosc didn't care what a slaves name was as long as they obeyed and did what they are told?" Well, at least he was answering Jaro's questions. That showed some signs of obedience, at least. There was hope for Tanner. "Names are always important. I always know the names of my slaves, even if I'm the only one to know them. Names are a part of history, and history is the most damned important thing you could ever know," he said, giving a shrug of his shoulders. "You amuse me, Tanner. It's not every day that someone amuses me."