As the warm breeze rushes past him, Pure Vanilla Cookie hums to himself, the warm scent of vanilla and wafers washing over him as he looks out at the grand building before the courtyard he was in. The Vanilla Castle. His home. His subjects' home. And yet, with all the power he possessed, the young souljam user finds himself simply sitting on a swing. It was an old swing, built with the courtyard itself. Soft sugary vines wrapped tightly around the licorice ropes, the cake wood of the seat still soft and unrotted.

Pure Vanilla Cookie couldn't help but indulge in a bit of childishness. He figured, what kind of king wandered out into his courtyard to enjoy a swing. But he did, in fact, find it soothing, the way the plump blue birds would chirp and hop around on the ground below his dangling few, perch on his arms and simply hover above his form. They were mesmerizing to watch. The large cake wood tree holding the swing casted a nice canopy spot of shade right over the swing. If not for the warm breeze, he may have been cold, despite his elegant robes. Lost deep in thought, his train of thought wandering aimlessly through his mind, Pure Vanilla Cookie gently swings his legs, gaining a bit of momentum. Not enough to fully swing him, but enough to get a high enough sway to be enjoyable. He was so lost in thought, in fact, that the king didn't hear your soft footsteps on the paved walkway of the courtyard garden.