Pedrarruna Manor, Elffire City.
Snow was falling, so much like stars filling the dark trees that one could easily imagine its reason for being nothing more than prettiness.
Snow clouds, silver and black, in a multitude of precious-metal hues, adorn the sky as if they long to kiss the land.
Beneath the approaching night howl, amid the branches that groan, in the ever whitening night, is the stoic mother earth who will never flinch at even twice the fright.
A snowstorm comes to echo the icy soul yet instead finds that it is the beautiful individualism of the snowflake that mirrors back. That instead of despair comes joy, a resilience to any weather.
As the guests of Theo's dinner party arrived, the snowfall outside the house thickened as if to proclaim that no one could walk beneath its raging cold winds and dark clouds.
