The branches of the trees bow with the heavy load they are carrying, bending towards the floor. If only they could shake themselves like a dog covered in water does; they would be free. Everything glistens, as if a fairy has sprinkled her dust over the entirety of Neverland. Colours are brighter against the pure white blanket that spreads as far as the eye can see. There is a momentary hint of blue sky, and even this bit of light was enough to release a flash of diamonds across the wide landscape, so oddly disfigured by its snowy adventure. The clouds thicken once more and cover the sky, creating a mirror-like white blanket similar to the snow covered ground; the horizons blur together, except for the deep ocean that remains a shimmering grey reflecting the white sky. No matter what time of day it was, the clouds hid the light, preventing definite shadows. Since Pan's absence, the days of sunshine have been rare; when he returned, it would be less than a day for the magic to fuel Neverland once more. Still, the airs smells pure and fresh. Everything seems quieter, almost muffled. There is a sense of serenity in the atmosphere, adding to the eeriness and quietness.
Heavy white boots leave fresh, crisp footprints in the snow, as if he is the only person to have ever been here. Snowflakes fall gently from the sky, but are whipped up by the occasional gust of wind. At a distance behind Flint, the wind gradually covered his tracks with snow, leaving the terrain as smooth as it was before. The icy air whistled around his ears, causing his skin to tingle and sting. Thanfully, his fingers and toes are not numb. He was snug inside his many layers of clothes; his usual outfit was layered over with snow-appropriate gear. Every piece of this winter clothing is white or a light shade of blue, making it easy to blend in with the blizzard. To be honest, he likes this new sort of wintry weather, for it only started to happen when Pan leaves Neverland; it is not because of the snow, but because of the peace the lack of magic brought. Everything here lives and thrives on magic, but he does not. Still, he missed the clear night sky and moonlight that came with it. Yes, he really does want to return to the warm nights under the moon. Hurry up, Pan.
He treks up the steep hill to end up at the top of the bare cliff overshadowing the forest below. It was the prime spot for star gazing, meditation, or to throw oneself to oblivion, but his purpose is to survey the land. He slides his goggles onto his forehead to get a clearer view of the scene. The whistling wind catches his ears and he tugs on the ends of his hat, pulling them closer to his skin. Narrowing his eyes in the chill breeze, Flint focuses and takes in what he sees between the snowy white outs; the forest extends out for another couple kilometers, then shifts into a sandy, now snow-covered, beach and then the ocean stretches out to the blended horizon line. It was a picture he has seen many times over and he knew it all so well. However, the only things that change were those not of nature: ships and small boats that dot the ocean of ice. He glares at the ships he knows to belong to various pirates. In this cold, unforgiving climate, they are bound to try to approach the land some time. How long has it been, Hook? How long has it been since you... What? Left us? No... Abandoned. The memories frustrate and anger him. After all the years of not seeing anything of Hook, Flint is left to brew in his hatred. He brushes aside his emotions and reaches a couple fingers inside his collar; he pulls up a scarf over his face, slides on his goggles again, and turns around to make his way back down the snowy cliff.
Sliding down the snow is the easy part; a slight jump, and he can dig his feet into a pile of snow as it slides an carries him down the hill. Grabbing hold of branches and rocks to guide his way, he makes it back to the bottom in a fraction of the time it took to climb to the top of the cliff. He makes his way into the forest he had just surveyed, heading to the rendezvous location where he would regroup with the Lost Children. Each of them had their assignments from the night before. Target: Western coast. Once I have surveyed the from the cliff, I will be approaching from the East. Fang will be approaching from the North. His skills and reflexes, not to mention his reliability (in his own way), make him the ideal person to be in the forefront of the group. The forest is thinner in his area but this way he can keep a good view of the shoreline and monitor activity close up. Ram will be leading the way from the South, followed by Trees; their objective is to survey within the forest. Ram's tracking and sight makes her the perfect one to be in the forest because, despite the crowded atmosphere, she can see much that others cannot. Trees is to accompany her because he does best traversing a forested area. Hopefully Ram will get him to shut up that loud-mouthed boy when she needs to. Truly, Flint did not want to have to deal with this sort of mission right now, but he, too, had his responsibilities.
Flint finishes his mental checklist and approaches a particularly taller tree. Glancing up, he takes a couple steps back and then sprint up the side of it, gripping onto the lowest branch. He lifts himself up through the tree and climbs to the top, situating himself to a point where he is able to see over the tops of the trees to the ocean. Snow falls from a few branches and covers his mess in the snow. His clothing still allows him to blend in with the whitened canopy of the tree. While he is able to remain concealed, he can see the ground directly below the base of the tree. Now that he is off the cliff, he has a more direct and level view of the ships. He stares, or rather, glares, at the one assumed to belong to Hook and his crew, for they have yet to confront his particular band of pirates. Knowing he would be the first to arrive at this point, Flint waits, perfectly still and silent.