He couldn't sense anything at first. Nothing but cold darkness and a deep gurgling. He could feel the cold caressing his fingers, prickle across his scalp. Everything was incredibly still and silent. Then his eyes flashed opened. There, right above him, was a misty halo of silver light.

He didn't know what it was at first, but then a name floated into his mind, as if placed there by someone else. The Man in the Moon. Slowly, he felt himself drift closer and closer. The silver light grew brighter and wider, until cracks spider-webbed across its surface and he broke free of his cold capsule.

The boy gasped as his head rose above the surface of the ice, gulping in the air as if it was his first breath. His body quickly followed and the ice solidified under his bare feet. He landed gently and stood there for a moment, breathing deeply and staring at his pale hands; as if unsure they were his. Abruptly, his eyes snapped up to the silver circle which had first greeted him.

Thy name is Jack Frost.

"… Jack… Frost," the boy said slowly, testing his name. He smiled, feeling the tiniest blossom of joy at the words.

He looked around, taking in the frozen pond and snow-covered forest with an expression of wonder. He stepped backwards to get a better view, only to feel wood digging into his foot. Turning around, Jack saw he had stepped on a crudely-made shepherd's crook. Curiosity nudging him forward, he bent down to pick it up.

As soon as his fingers made contact, the staff lit up brightly with a blue glow, a burst of energy shooting out from the end. Jack started at the sudden action, jerking backwards at the light. He cautiously studied the crook, watching as a trail of patterned frost spread from its end.

Slowly, he picked up the staff again and tapped it against the ice. More frost spread out from its base and Jack's smile returned. No longer fearful, he skated off the frozen pond with amazing agility, dragging a trail of frost behind him.

He leapt off the ice and into the crunchy snow, bounding to the closest trees. Touching one to steady his balance, Jack's grin grew wider as frost spread from his fingertips. He bounced with utter glee at the discovery, a snicker leaving his mouth.

He swung his staff in a circular motion, running and jumping into the air. The wind picked him playfully, carrying him high above the trees. He flew, albeit unsteadily, laughing loudly. He dipped and waved through the air, feeling safe within the wind's invisible hand.

Jack glanced down, letting out a slow whistle at the amazing sight below him. Spotting a patch of light not far from the pond, a mischievous look crept into his eyes. He tipped forward, suspended for a moment before shooting towards the tiny town, letting out a loud "woo-hoo!" He arrived quickly, tumbling into the snow rather ungracefully.

It wasn't much. A few houses stacked together, a group of public buildings surrounding a small square with a few small fires lit. People huddled around the fires or outside their homes, their cloaks held tight to fight off the growing cold.

Jack hardly noticed this is his cheerful mood. He stood up and brushed the snow off his small cloak, his grin as wide as it could be as he waltzed down the main path. He passed out greetings as he went, unable to keep the smile off his face.

After a few minutes of nobody acknowledging him, unease settled in Jack's stomach. His smile slipped a little. Was he doing something wrong? Perhaps he wasn't saying the right thing?

"Thou appear quite lovely tonight, ma'am," he said to a young woman, trying a different approach. She continued talking to the older man beside her, as if she had never heard Jack. "Pardon me—"

Jack never finished his sentence, gasping as she stood up and walked right through him. He clutched at his chest, trying to regain his breath and rid the feeling of cold that suddenly spread over his torso.

"Wai—" Jack stopped mid-sentence again as a pair of children ran through his legs. He gasped again, scrunching his eyes shut as pain mixed with the cold sensation. The moment passed and he straightened up, pure terror written on his once happy face.

"Please, can anyone hear me?"

"Anyone? Anyone!"

"Hello? Hello! Can thou see me?"

"Anyone…?"

His frantic cries went unheard, his face unseen. Nobody could see him. Nobody.

He stumbled backwards, his breath hitching with fear and pain. The cold, deep ache in his body pulsed harshly as yet another person stepped through him. Jack turned and ran, running away from the people in the town, from the pain that accompanied them, from the fires that felt too hot, from the fear which nipped at his heels.

Jack finally stopped at the edge of the pond, his chest heaving and his eyes burning with tears. A few bubbled over, freezing half-way down his pale cheeks. He touched the trails in confusion, and his hand immediately recoiled at the contact with the thin ice.

"A-am I dead?" he whispered aloud, not bothering to keep his voice even.

His eyes found his reflection in the ice of the pond. It was his reflection—yet, it wasn't. He stared at his pale face, blue eyes and white hair. That's right, his hair was never white it was… it was… And his eyes weren't blue, they were… were…

The fear churning in Jack's stomach morphed into anger and frustration. He snapped his head up, staring accusingly at the only being who had spoken to him, the one who had given his name: the Man in the Moon.

"What is this?" he shouted into the empty air. "Have I died? Is this my punishment to atone for my sins?" The moon stayed silent. Jack's anger grew. "What is the purpose thou sent me? Why am I here?"

The moon stayed silent.

Just like the rest of them.

Jack screamed in frustration and threw his crook into the ground, the sky darkening and the wind blowing harshly with his anger. The moon, silent and still, was covered by a few dark clouds.

"No matter. Thou art useless," Jack muttered, his voice low. "But I shan't simply sit on the ice and weep."

He scooped his staff from the growing snow before leaping up into the sky, letting the wind carry him as high as it could.

In the village, a snowstorm raged.

Hi guys! It's been a while, hasn't it? Well, I usually don't have the time, but I saw Rise of the Guardians and couldn't help myself. Jack Frost, why did you have to steal my heart? (I still believe in him, even though there's never snow where I live.) Anyways, this will be just a collection of drabbles to spin my feels into lovely little stories. I've gotten a little rusty at writing (took me a while to get this one sounding right at all) but I've missed the feeling of a good fanfiction.

For those of you wondering why Jack Frost sounds like our founding fathers from the 1700s, it's because, yes, he is from the 1700s. So I thought to myself, 'There's no way he speaks modernly at the very beginning. Naw, he needs all the thees and thous and stuff.' And it happened. Don't worry, he doesn't talk like this all the time. (unless you want him too ;) )

Please review, I love critiques! (be as harsh on me as you wish, I take it very well :) )

Loves and Kisses!
~StarNight888