Half an elf [open]

Hard to say if he was knowledgeable, when he'd barely spend time outside himself. Especially since this was a different place, rules changed. “Two to five, depending on the time it's already there” he replied with a shrug. They better had some stores or it'd be a harsh winter to come, had he lived through some in the monastery. Given that he stone walls weren't much different to the cave walls and heating mainly for the common rooms, the cold didn't bother him as much, fur and the fire more than enough on top of his multi-layer garments. “My bones hurt when there's changes coming.” How or why he didn't knew, it just happened, stuck around after years of them aching for no reason.
It was nice to hear how there were others who liked climbing here, though he was used to having no company – but at least he'd not be the only one doing it. “I can fly.” Milo admitted very softly. For fear of severe punishment he very rarely mentioned that around humans, was magic a thing they didn't take well. Still was something he could do, even if only for a short time. The trees weren't far enough up, nothing was. He wanted part of the sky he couldn't reach.

He nodded at the note of someone having an aching knee, probably from an old wound. “Like that, just everywhere. They used to hurt for no reason while I grew up, joints sore and swelling... that stopped, at least.” Mostly. There still could be bursts of it at random times, he just feared what reaction there'd be to him being sick often, would try to hide it, treat it on his own as long as he could find some herbs outside.
Milos shoulders slumped at Choice being so excited about him flying. The term 'glider' wasn't even known to him, the Sprouting Antlers not having this kind of magic, ground-bound as they were. “I... I can't go into the sky. Not even up my own height.” It hurt, to have it it but not be able to use it as intended, did he knew deep down that it was his given birthright. Only no one had been around to teach him, to encourage the little bits coming up during childhood, fear holding him back now. The way it was it felt like just another broken thing.

“Who else?” he mumbled, having not seen any elf till past this years. “I learned what herbs to use to make it better. And it's always been there. It's me.” He didn't want any of it taken away, even if it hurt. Not knowing it any different, what else could he do but assume it to be meant this way? It was hard to talk about when Choice had no clue how many other things were not quite right with his body, Milo rather self-conscious about his body.
Humble was nothing he'd ever been described as, the life of a monk sure humble, but this only meant giving up comforts, many of which he never got to know first place. “I guess...” People didn't had the patience to teach him, let him try more than once, strict rules leaving little free choice throughout the day. Whenever he failed to meet expectations, it had been made about him being just too broken to function. Story telling was what he felt good doing, but what use would it be here, in a community that'd need workers most?

“No” he was quick to reply to the offer. There had been people who looked at him, early in his childhood, but they'd rarely been gentle about it, had not let him explain, dismissed his complaints and crying. It was fear of being mistreated again and too soon to trust strangers. “They do – just harder to find them under snow, I guess. I only know them growing in a garden.” Never had he needed to look for them in the wild.
Getting outside, seeing the surroundings and maybe even finding a tree he could escape on when things in here got to tense again, sounded like a good idea. Sure, he didn't had shoes and it'd be cold with the snow, but it'd hardly be the first time. And they'd only make him more clumsy, though he had a tendency to stumble over all there could be. Just never in climbing – how often hadn't he dreamed of flying, of all his faults on the ground not mattering there. “Yes, let's go out.” Probably the better, if Keleero decided to come back.

If he would actually find the herbs under the snow he would have to see about, hoped to at least recognize them by scent. Most had flowers as their prominent feature, only leaves or roots not always the right part to use for his cause. “Willow at least should be found – that's trees with branches like ropes. Usually found near rivers.” The bark of it could be used year-round to make a pain and fever soothing tea. Sure someone else could use it too.
Leaving his fur on the ground for the two odd wolves he stood up. “I'm good. Feet will get a bit cold without shoes, but they'd only make it harder anyway” At least the hard-soled, part wooden ones from the monastery did, too heavy, stealing him of much-needed feel of the ground. Maybe someone here knew a better way to make some. Or he'd just taken to climbing, use his flying whenever possible, hoping that one day it'd be all needed.

(OOC: Yes, we can end it in a bit! I thought on doing a thread in the hot baths some days later that Choice could join in, prompting some more talk about the oddities of his body?)

Milo would be relieved to have willow at least, would rather not be a liability to anyone just because his body ached too much for whatever reason. A river sounded like just the right spot and he nodded in confirmations. Now shoes were a difficult topic with him. “I'm used to it.” Thanks to going barefoot whenever allowed to, his feet were as calloused as his hands, used to all weather. “And socks will just get wet and then more cold.” Having more than once fallen face-first into a snow bank and then suffering to sit through a long hours of church service in stone buildings barely above freezing temperatures meant a little trek wouldn't harm him. And they had a fire waiting here after all, more than his bleak chamber ever had offered.

(OOC: 22nd works great! I'll set it up asap so I don't forget, since we can sure end this with the two leaving the cave in the next post)