[color=87CEE0][b]Quill[/b][/color]
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In his endless wandering, Quill found himself in the frozen north, dressed appropriately in heavy furs. He did not need to dress for the weather, however there was always something that felt right about dressing for the environment. There was a practical reason, it allowed him to more easily blend in with humans, however there was also something about wearing the same thing constantly that grated on him. He appreciated the variety. 

After awhile, he had found a good spot and stopped. He decided to take a moment to absorb the scene, there was a some thing appealing in the simplicity of a snow-covered land. However, there was something about the stillness, while the visage was nice, there was something unsettling about how motionless it was. 

It was at the point he decided to devote himself to bring more motion to the north, however he then just stood there for a moment to think about how to go about doing that. He begin to mutter to himself, "[color=87CEE0]A snowstorm. To fleeting. A bird. Not here.[/color]"