The closer they got to the country’s borders, Cyran noticed that Wolfe was growing more sluggish, unable to keep up as well with the rest of them and shivering in their armor. At first Cyran thought that they might not be accustomed to the cold, but their reaction seemed to be more extreme than Oriole’s own. The desert thief was shivering under his coat, but nowhere near as bad as the knight, who was beginning to resemble more of a stiff-limbed puppet than a person.

Cyran was already concerned when Wolfe approached him, tugging on his jacket sleeve to get his attention as they whispered their question. Cyran tilted his head, confused as to what they meant by smoking, when he noticed the misty air wafting from the gaps in their armor, his eyebrows immediately raised in concern.

“What’s going on? Is this a…” He struggled to find the right words for a moment. Mindful of the men around them, he lowered his voice, mindful of the men around them, “An ooze thing? Are you able to function in the cold?” He had no idea how ooze creatures worked, but he was fairly certain they were almost like liquid in nature… and in cold temperatures, liquid was prone to freezing.

Cyran hummed as he tried to think of a solution, coming up short. “We should probably hide you again while we figure this out. For now-” He unclasped his cloak, tossing it over Wolfe’s shoulders. He wasn’t sure how much it would help, but any kind of warmth would help in a situation like this. “I’m not often up this far north, so I’m not versed in dealing with the cold either, but you need this for me.” He added with a small smile.

“Come on, let’s find you somewhere to rest. You deserve a break.” Maybe when they stopped, they could light a fire and get them warmed up. But for now, they had to continue on with their trek. He led Wolfe to one of the carts, leaving Oriole with a command to watch out for any threats in their stead.

Blue Raspberry was lead into the cart, Cyran's cloak now also wrapped around them. It seemed to help slightly, but not by much. The ooze didn't produce much body heat for the cloak to contain anyways. The inside of the covered wagon was dark, and a small oil lantern hung from a hook on the wooden frame. Blue Raspberry was kind of an idiot, but they at least knew that a lamp had a little fire in it and fires were warm.

They took the lamp off the hook and struggled to try and light it with their stiff limbs and fingers. They couldn't figure out whatever mechanism there was for making the lamp light, but after a moment they stuck a finger into the glass and a small spark of electricity arced between the tip of their gauntlet and the wick, lighting it. They clung to the tiny lantern for any amount of warmth they could get from it, hugging it close. It didn't help much, even pressed against their metal cuirass. Blue Raspberry realized the armor must be in the way of the heat from the lantern.

"Cyran, do you have anything warm? This fire is too small." they asked, pointing a finger at the lantern.

They got Wolfe to one of the tarp-covered wagons, which had only a small lantern which Wolfe lit with a tiny bolt of electricity. Cyran watched as they tried to find some warmth from the miniscule flame before realizing that their cold armor was preventing them from finding any semblance of heat.

“Anything warm?” Cyran dug through his bag, but aside from his daggers and a small, beaded necklace tucked in the bottom of his bag, there was nothing he had that could possibly help Wolfe. He shook his head, worrying his lower lip with his teeth. “Nothing that could help us right now. Nor does any of my magic lend to starting a fire.” He said regretfully. “It might just make things worse, if I’m being honest.”

He frowned as he considered their next options. Frostgale was only going to get colder, and Wolfe needed to find some way to keep their body unfrozen if they were going to make it to the border. “Are you sure you can’t just remove your armor?” He suggested. “How do oozes normally stay warm?” Did they even typically roam this far north? Maybe this was a sign Cyran needed to brush up on his monsters, considering how many he’d been caught unaware by during the course of their journey.

“If you can make it to the border, I’m sure you could find an inn to rest at. They'll definitely have fireplaces, hot food, and plenty of blankets.”

"Yeah, I can remove it. Just a sec." Blue Raspberry replied, their manner of speech slower than usual. They began to shift, the blue ooze creeping out of the gaps in their armor, but the process took much more time than usual. The blue ooze crept across the outside of the armor like molasses, affected terribly by the cold.

"Maybe... more than a sec..." Blue Raspberry muttered as they saw how slow the process was this time. The slime crawled up and over their helmet as they spoke, flowing out of the neck hole of their cuirass. The scene before Cyran was one of knight that stood in the back of the wagon appearing to be slowly swallowed up by blue goop.

While still in the middle of the severely slower than usual unequipping of their armor, Cyran and Blue Raspberry suddenly heard some shouting from outside.

"Where are those two? Why do my hired adventurers keep disappearing!? We're almost there, don't tell me they abandoned their job now when we're so close!" the slightly muffled and obviously angry voice of the caravan leader rang through the wagon like nails on a chalkboard.

Blue Raspberry panicked, caught in the middle of their transformation. At this point, cutting the process short and reverting back to being in their armor would take even longer than just finishing taking it off.

"Cyran! Hide me!" they whispered in a panic.

Admittedly, watching Wolfe’s ooze form was rather unnerving, though years of practice had helped him learn to school his expression in the face of absurdity. He was mostly concerned that Wolfe seemed to be moving much more sluggish than usual, having difficulty getting out of the armor. Cyran would try to help, but he wasn’t sure how to help as he slowly watched his friend dissolve into a puddle of blue, raspberry smelling goop.

The sound of shouting from outside caught Cyran’s attention- the caravan leader was preparing to enter the wagon. Cyran was already preparing to cause a distraction before Wolfe cried out for assistance, desperately looking for some way to hide. He was not as adept at concealing others that were not himself, but he had enough at his arsenal to at least distract the caravan leader for long enough for Wolfe to get out of this armor and hopefully get warm.

Cyran held out his hand, calling forth a burst of ravens from behind him.^[1] The swarm of ebony birds flew around in a flurry of feathers and cries, all fluttering around and attempting to escape before concentrating their attention on the exit. Just as the leader threw open the tent flap, a flock of ravens blasted him in the face, giving Cyran enough time to pick up his cloak, the one on which his hood of horrors was attached, and threw it over Wolfe.

“Ow, what the hell? Blasted- birds!” The leader shouted as he swatted at the ravens, which all screeched and scratched lightly at him.

“Stay quiet and stay low.” Cyran warned quietly while the caravan leader was distracted. “Pretend you’re a piece of furniture. I will distract him for you.”

He stepped forward and intercepted the caravan leader as the man pulled himself hurriedly into the cart while the ravens dissipated, face covered in scratches. For a moment, Cyran almost felt bad for the things he’d been subjected to, despite his attitude. He was seething with rage as he shouted at Cyran. “What the hell was that?”

“I’m not quite sure what to tell you. There was a flock of birds that managed to get in here, and I came to get them out.” Cyran said, concealing his lies in as much of the truth as he could. As the caravan leader tried to step around him, take a peek around the wagon, Cyran smoothly sidestepped in front of him once more, preventing him from getting a closer look at the ooze that was currently still concealed under his cloak.

---

1. Raven Storm

Blue Raspberry curled up underneath the cloak, trying to stay as still as possible while also absorbing their armor into themself. In their concentration on doing so quietly and carefully, they didn't even notice that they were also consuming the lantern in their hands.

"Well the birds are gone, so now I think you can let me into my wagon, don't you?" the caravan leader scolded Cyran angrily, poking him in the chest and pushing him out of the way before stepping up into the wagon. They looked around, wondering what was going on in here. Why was that badly mannered adventurer even in here? And where was the stupid knight? Then, he spotted the adventurer's cloak on the floor of the wagon, obviously covering something up. He stepped over and lifted the cloak slightly and was horrified.

He quickly stepped out of the cart, his cheeks blushing incredibly red, and looked at Cyran.

"Th- that's not something you should be doing while you're working! What- and what was with the birds!? You know what, I don't want to know!" he said, extremely flustered, before rushing away.

Blue Raspberry poked their head slowly out of the wagon and looked at Cyran apologetically, the man's cloak wrapped around them, but what was visible was clearly no longer in their armor and looked humanoid at least. In fact, they weren't wearing any clothing at all except for the cloak which hid anything not PG13.

"I think he saw me. Sorry." Blue Raspberry apologized, but their talking and movement were noticeably less sluggish than before.

Well, that got settled, admittedly in the most mortifying way possible. Cyran’s own face was entirely red as the caravan leader stammered and ran past him, escaping the wagon as fast as humanly possible. He wasn’t even sure what to say as Wolfe picked themselves up, free of the armor but also free of any other coverings besides Cyran’s spare cloak.

Cyran blinked rapidly as he attempted to find the right words to say, but they were failing him in this particular situation. “Don’t worry about it.” His voice sounded oddly strained. “I don’t think he saw anything important.”

He decided to focus on finding Wolfe some clothes rather than thinking about the conclusions that the caravan leader had drawn. Yes, he was just grateful that the caravan leader had been too mortified to ask any questions. Eventually he found a spare shirt and trousers that looked like it was meant to be an extra pair of winter gear, which he handed to Wolfe without making eye contact.

“Here- put these on, and if it’s warm enough, feel free to join me back outside. If not, you should be able to hide out in here until we reach the borders. I doubt the caravan leader will be too keen to come looking for you, which is fortunate for us.”

He decided it would be best to leave Wolfe to get ready themselves, and returned to Oriole’s side. The young thief cast Cyran a sidelong glance- apparently the chaos had been loud enough that he’d heard it where he was still walking with Cyran’s horse.

“What happened in there? Did he see Wolfe?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” Cyran said quickly, shutting down the conversation before it could continue.

Blue Raspberry emerged from the back of the wagon wearing the spare winter clothes they'd been given along with some other clothing they were able to quite literally cough up as well as their cloak of displacer beast skin, the hood pulled up over their head. They were still a bit sluggish from the cold, but they felt much better without the metal armor sapping their heat away and with a new feeling of something warm inside them thanks to the oil lamp they'd engulfed. Now it sat inside their torso. A slight bluish glow would have been visible from their stomach had it not been covered in the thick layers of warm clothing.

They walked up to Cyran with a sleepy-looking smile on their face. "Thanks, this stuff really helps a lot! I didn't know my armor made me so cold. That bossy guy acted really weird though, didn't he? What was that about?" They laughed before suddenly looking a little worried with a gasp. "Oh no! Is my hair still purple!?" Blue Raspberry whispered, their voice full of concern.

Did the caravan leader get freaked out by their change in hair color? They didn't really understand what that would have to do with doing something while working though, but they were supposed to be hiding their head with their helmet! They completely forgot thanks to the cold!

---

Skin Pocket

A few minutes later, Wolfe returned wearing the clothes that Cyran had found him, still sluggish but no longer smoking, dissolving into a puddle of goo, or purple, which he was choosing to take as a positive sign. They’d had enough near-misses of someone discovering their identity that Cyran was endlessly thankful that they were rapidly approaching a handful of signposts tacked in the snow that marked the border between Dragon’s Cradle and Frostgale.

“No problem.” Cyran gave them a smile. “Just be careful next time you’re so far up north- armor is great for protection but it has no insulation to come with it.” He had a sneaking suspicion that Wolfe had never visited the north before, based on their violent reaction to the extreme weather shift. At least they didn’t have to keep up the act for long. Cyran’s eyes widened as Wolfe asked why the caravan leader had such an extreme reaction, bewildered that they hadn’t seemed to understand the implication of what the leader saw. Didn’t they know about the birds and the bees-?

Oh, yes, that was right. They were an ooze creature.

Cyran considered his response for a moment, trying to find the way to tactfully put this in a way they’d understand. In the end, though, his mind was drawing a blank, and the only thing he could think to do was to fall on the same excuse he’d given Oriole.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

They still looked freaked out, though, so Cyran put a hand on their shoulder in reassurance. “I think right now the hair is the least of his concerns.”

He was interrupted by another embarrassed shout by the caravan leader, whose voice sounded more strained than angry like it had before. “Am I going to have to break you two up?”

Cyran immediately removed his hand and put distance between himself and Wolfe, clearing his throat. “Either way. I think you’re safe, and no one will be asking any questions. And, you can finally get paid.” Not that they really needed it, Cyran remembered, considering they had once dumped a treasure fit for a king in his bathroom…

Oh, well. A little extra coin never hurt, he supposed. They’d both earned it after this trip.

Blue Raspberry was disappointed that Cyran wouldn't tell them what was going on. Why did they have to wait until they were older? And how long did they have to wait? They were already an adult, or at least they looked like one. They raised a confused eyebrow at the caravan leader's remark about breaking them up. Was that a threat? Well, Cyran didn't seem too concerned with it so they just let it go.

Finally, the caravan arrived at their destination, a small fort town at the border of Frostgale and Dragon's Cradle. The three adventurers were lead to a warm, comfortable inn while the cargo was unloaded from the wagons by the rest of the crew and brought down to a cellar. At a table in one corner of the tavern on the first floor of the inn, the leader counted out their payment and presented Cyran, Oriole, and Blue Raspberry each with a pouch from which the telltale clinking of coin could be heard.

"There, your payment as promised! Maybe you can use some of it to get a room!" he grunted before quickly getting up and leaving the three, his face still a bit red.

"Oh, that's a good idea! Thanks!" Blue Raspberry called to the leader, much happier and more energetic thanks to the warm interior of the inn. The caravan leader's face just reddened a bit more as he rushed away. Blue Raspberry looked at Cyran and Oriole and continued in a more appropriate indoor voice.

"I think I'll stay here for the night and then head back to Dragon's Cradle. It's too cold here for me!" Blue Raspberry said casually and then suddenly clapped Cyran on the back a few times. "Thanks for the help! Order some food, I'll pay for it, my treat!"

By the time they reached an inn, Cyran was far too exhausted to care about the caravan leader’s pointed innuendo about exactly what they should do with their fair share of the money. The leader wasn’t their problem anymore- they’d completed their job, and made it to the outpost safely. Now, it was time for them all to rest, and for Wolfe to get warm. Cyran tucked the coin pouch in a safe location on his belt as Wolfe loudly thanked the caravan leader for his ‘helpful advice’.

“Oh, you don’t need to…” Cyran trailed off. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.”

He was listening to Wolfe declare that they would just be heading back to Dragon’s Cradle once all of this was said and done, which was honestly not the worst idea. Even though they were now inside, they still looked like they were struggling to function in the cold. Cyran opened his mouth to respond when he was suddenly smacked in the back several times by Wolfe, nearly sending him spiraling to the ground. He managed to catch himself before he could fall, thankfully.

“As I said before, think nothing of it.” Cyran said. Wolfe may have had their eccentricities- mainly, being a creature made of ooze rather than flesh and bone- but they seemed to be a good person at their core. That kind of kindness in the world, in Cyran’s opinion, should be preserved. “If you ever need my assistance in the future, you know where to find me.” And then, only because he wasn’t certain whether Wolfe actually remembered where he lived or not, he specified, “The orphanage, I mean.”

He wouldn’t turn up his nose at food, though, so Cyran followed Wolfe to a table with Oriole in tow, ordering a bowl of soup to warm himself up after their cold trek through Frostgale. After their turbulent journey, they could all finally breathe.