Rizze woke with a start, the stone beneath him chilling even his scaly hide as he scrambled to stand. His limbs tried to take that once, faintly familiar bipedal stance... But his body truly let him down as he only fell back down to his now permanent four-point stature. He felt a coldness seeping within his draconic bones, and his eyes flitted around him.
The chilling frost had clearly encompassed the entirety of his scraped out hollow, but had only ringed that and nothing more. Upon closer inspection, it was strongest where his body had lain atop the stony earth. It had grown up in small, creeping icicles that had clearly climbed up his form. His body only now began to shake away the first ebbings of frost, moments after waking.
His dream was hazy within his mind, and truly he couldn't remember most of its details. Such being what exactly he'd seen, what he'd thought he was. The pink flesh of his limbs... That box of pictures. He felt that he should know what they were, but couldn't place them within his mind. Even now, it was all fading.
And with its regress, came his hunger. He'd traveled for truly an astonishing distance, one that it'd almost felt autonomous the entire way guided as he was. He decided to investigate within himself in more detail, soon. But first, came the hunt.
Weak, yet sure steps led the wyrmling out from his new 'home,' and he soon began to follow his nose. The scent of herding animals and their manure was strong in the air. It didn't take him long to find them, the goat-things were all together. He scoured the herd from a distance, trying to decide which would be his best bet. At the moment, the chill within him truly made him feel weak, and even these creatures seemed too strong... He'd need to take their essence for him to live strong, such was the cycle of things.
There was a small satellite group of older goats, four strong on the edges of the herd. He had chosen to prey upon one of these, at the least. Even stringy flesh would still be more than enough in his current state. The wyrmling maneuvered around the herd carefully, sure to follow his past mother's guidance on proper hunt-step. Slow, yet purposeful steps that took their time, and kept an even rhythm so as to stay as quiet as possible. For a dragon, perhaps.
Yet still, it was too late by the time the elder goats heard the sound of his final, mad dash for sustenance. A great clamor rose as the goats fled all together, the screeching bleats of beasts hunted ringing through the air in terror as he tore into his target, teeth tearing through its hide and flesh alike in a grisly, rough manner.
Like this he consumed the beast nearly his own size, his head tucking into his prey's surrendered flesh to plunder the delights within. Its sanguine blood coated his maw and fores alike, his mouth tasting the enticingly iron-rich liquid as it pooled inside it... And he swallowed it all greedily. He did not waste a single piece of this herd's sacrifice, leaving nothing but bones. And even those, he left marks of his teeth upon.
Satisfied, Rizze soon came upon himself again from his feeding frenzy, and back-tracked to his new abode. He cared not now, for the trail he left behind. Bloodstained impressions of his clawed feet, and broken brush clearly marking his path. He did not mind, for anything that lived near would likely avoid him for the sole fact of what sort of creature he was. Even young, a being such as he was generally more dangerous than most others. Smarter than a beast, and usually rather cunning.
Perhaps Rizze could be considered such, but more than likely he was of greater intelligence or bearing of mind than most wyrmlings of his age. Such was the benefit of being taken over by his rogue soul. He considered this body lucky to have him, and the same for his soul to have been so lucky as to stumble upon opportunity to live.
The wyrmling stopped, as he finally entered the precipice of his home. There were signs of recent movement, here. Tracks led to his carved hollow, and similarly led out. Whatever it was, had left the prints of a... Bipedal creature. And the feet didn't look bare... Shoes, most likely. . . .Shoes?
Rizze flinched, his mind succumbing to a sudden, great pain. His draconic cry rang through the forest as he writhed to and fro, the pain fading only after he'd finally let go of the notion of what had made these tracks. He took the initiative to not collapse outside his home, and made it to his little, yet still frost-coated hollow before surrendering to the sudden slumber.
---
He woke slowly, this time his slumber undisturbed. But his waking was quite another story. As the wyrmling cracked open his eyes, he found that sight through them was truly hazy and obstructed by... Ice.
He shuddered throughout his entire body, such was the deathly chill that crept through it. Yet, he still lived, and this shudder showed him another fact. That his entire body was covered in the same ice that had coated his eyelids. With a groan, his chilled muscles strained and pushed, until the harsh cracking rang through the cavern, and he freed himself from his chilly tomb.
After he had freed his vision, he looked beneath him to inspect his surroundings. The entire hollow was filled with that same, frozen ice. Yet this time thicker, and perhaps more... Stable, than before. It had been merely a thing, wispy layer of ice before, but now it was nearly as thick as an apple. Similarly so, was the icy pieces he'd broken himself from. It seemed there was something up, and he had to bet it had come from him. It was time to look within himself once more.