With the shift of time and space and reality, a winter wonderland was to be found outside. Everything was new again, restored and wonderful, and it was time to finally enjoy what had been denied. The lights came easy enough, malleably shifted into existence. They wouldn't be forever, but they'd last for long enough. The author of this place was recognized and respected. Couldn't do anything to other people, that was the new job-to observe and document everything that would happen.

Speaking of which... following the rolling together of the most beautiful snowman ever, a molestation of the gentle powder was in order. A snow angel was something new. A snow angeltaur was absolutely a word scramble that was unique to this day. The somft kromph of crushing snow was a crunchy bliss to hear; a crackle of notes that newly sensitive ears delicately savored with each crk and shf.

Hmmm... the snow was rather sticky and wet... not enough to get through the outer barrier coat, but it was sticking to every inch. Getting heavier. Stickier... slowly coating every inch except for the flicking tailtip in a dense white powdercoat. A snow-taur indeed. Except, weight had already been a concern... and now it was getting moreso. Densely sinking into a soft, gentle morass of snowy softness, stuck and constrained by the dents gently shoved into the soft bank.

Quicksnow... goodness gracious, this was certainly something to document fully, every moment until completely engulphed and likely transformed into just more of it by the properties of the odd substance. Or maybe frozen and preserved for the winter; sinking down... down... down... lost in the snow until authorial powers rewrote reality to allow a return to 'normalacy'. It was getting heavier... denser on spread-eagle limbs. Details were becoming obscured. Movement was growing ever more restricted as the dense powdercoat turned into more of an icy crust.

Whoop... that'd be something to wriggle to, to blush to if it weren't for the fact that the snow was rising up over the sight-lines. Splayed out like this, the sinking was still slow, but it was picking up pace as weight added on. Crumbles of snow collapsed down into the deepening divot... a cold need to wriggle and blush and squeak with self-play came to mind. Whoop... all those features growing ever more obscured as the snow collapsed over wings and limbs, leaving a moo-vixen shaped depression in the bank.

It was so easy to surrender... to let it take her. Just a huffing snoot, twitching wing-hand-tips, and the dense coating over a broad bosum remained visible; the rest vanished into a snow-taur-angel divot in the impossible winter wonderland. Whoop... mnnngh, so that's what it felt like. The dense blubber was keeping things warm even as unreality began to build to reset her back to her room. Just a little bit more... s-sqwk! Chat would have to get to watch as soon as things were reset.

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This piece was done for me by the lovely  Death-Toaster (don't laugh) as part of a YCH. They were kindly enough to find a way to make a taur work with dis one. About to go 'froomp' slowly out of sight into quicksnow, don't mind me. I will (probably) be fine.

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