At the old auction house gates, the driver wiggled out of his seat and limped up to the doors, and taking a huge raven pull-rope in his hands, he yanked forcefully.
As the sunrise appeared over the summit, the man realized that he was on the very edge of a snowstorm that chased him up the mountain. The air became alive with tiny iridescent needles of ice, too small to see unless the light hit them but then reflecting a rainbow of colours. Travelling past the farmland and not into the woods, he could feel the chilly breeze flying past him. The snow falling on his face brings a smile to his face. The breath of fresh air gives him a certain sense of calm. Yet, the eerie stillness was broken by the synchronised howling of the mountain wild animals, and some unknown creatures that reminded him that they weren't alone.
