---Certainly, it is in it's nature as a fairy to wander as it pleases.
Alone in the depths of the Polar Night, one of many manifestations of that concept called "ice," a demon that is not particularly powerful nor particularly weak, a wanderer that does as it pleases whenever it pleases.
It is not haunted by a lack of life.
While humans might find this sort of area bizarre, even lonely, too silent perhaps... This demon cares little for such things, the winds of the North make their own sounds, there is life to be found here if one looks closely -even if that life may not be human- and whether others are around or not, it maintains it's own nature in spite of everything...
On a whim, it moves as it wants.
If others are around that is fine enough, it can enjoy the company of others, demon, human, doesn't really matter.
If others are not around, that too is fine, easily withstood, it will not die of loneliness.
It wanted to go for a walk, and thus it went for a walk.
Deep in the Night, a harsh storm of ice and gale-force winds, circling an area that it had simply entered on a whim... The storm here is not brought about by the use of magic, it is something natural, the harsh winds of the North that strip life from the careless, but it is not careless, nor can these winds do anything to it.
It is the winter.
It is the cold.
It is that hand that decorates the homes of humans at times.
It is what it is, and it will remain so until the very end...
One of many.
And so it walks.
It's body is light and it leaves no footprints in the snow.
Of course it wouldn't matter if it did; at the rate everything is coming down, it's not like anyone would be able to see them before they disappear.
It is quite a storm.
The sort that appears only in those places that humans do not call their homes, the lands that were not forgotten, but rather those that were forsaken because they were simply too much work to inhabit...
Yes.
While one might be able to find demons here, in a world that had forsaken their kind some time ago, it does not expect to find any people here...
Of course it thinks that.
It's mannerisms are 'cute' to humans, but it is not like it is unintelligent, it is far, far smarter than appearance would suggest, and it is more than capable of making logical connections, even so...
It sees someone, out here in the storm.
"..."
How strange.
It's a naturally curious being, and so it goes to investigate.
Ah.
Crimson-hair.
Crimson in a manner that is not natural, a red so red that it burns like fire, and a silent fallen body of someone that absolutely was not a human, but...
Had been laid oh so low by what it can only assume was circumstance, yes...
It is not a human, oh no, it can tell right away that this is a Goddess.
But right now that doesn't matter.
The marks in the snow are desperate and clawing, like someone doing their best to drag themselves to the surface of a lake... It has the same mark of panic to it as someone drowning, a primal sincerity that must have kept her afloat in this storm in spite of her wounds, but...
That power must have faded recently.
She had been buried almost up to her head when it had decided to dig around a bit.
"..."
It is a manifestation of trouble.
No matter how one looks at it, this is a manifestation of trouble.
Getting involved with a fallen Goddess would do no good, for one thing, the fact that her body was practically torn apart -albeit regenerating- meant that someone had put her into that state, and...
That meant trouble.
Not only that...
It has no obligation to do anything here either...
For humans, that would be a cruel reality, for Demon-kind at least, when it came to their relations with each other, well...
This woman here was clearly the 'loser,' and thus, this was the outcome the winner had deemed fit to give her.
If she was weaker than the snow, then be buried by the snow.
Simple logic.
Cruel in some ways perhaps, but efficient.
That is the path to avoid the obvious trouble this woman would bring with her.
After all, if something could defeat a Goddess, what chance did something like it possess?
So it does what comes naturally to it.
Footsteps continue through the storm, gently, leaving no sign of their passing as they go.
However, there is another sound now.
Smoother.
Like a sled, drifting through the snow.
Crimson hair, far too crimson to be natural, drifting along behind in it's wake, on a bed made of ice.
Yes.
It does what comes naturally to it.
In the case of this demon that means only one thing.
Whatever it wants, whenever it feels like it, even if those actions are illogical to anyone else...
Or even itself.
Just a whim, little more.
It'll pull her along until it gets bored of doing so, and if that happens to be somewhere closer to someone more benevolent, well then...
That would simply be luck, correct?
The Polar Night bears no heat within it.
Nevertheless, the sound of a snowman humming to itself in the darkness...
Is perhaps...
Warmer than even it realizes...
--Chapter One//Xanadu--
"Death of the X-Cross/Future Lost"