SNOW CRUNCHES UNDER HIS FEET AS HE WALKED ALONG THE MOUNTAIN PATH. The hoot of an owl mixes with faint gasps of breath.
Grayson sighed, slowing his pace. But he couldn't stop at this point, he had to keep on moving, the weather around these parts is particularly bad.
Looking over at Aeolus, he was struggling slightly. Shivering, his body not used to this form of environment, "It fucking freezing." He stuttered, his chosen attire is far from appropriate for this condition of weather.
They came to a high point in the tail and steps of it. A moth flutters up from a patch of tall, dead grass. It dances around in front of him face for a second before disappearing up into the black, starry sky until it's too small to see anymore. Likely off to hide somewhere else. He's jealous of its freedom. It can hide from its problems. He couldn't.
