"It's…cold."
A young child with black hair and scarlet eyes walked through the blizzard, his feet and hands were encased in a layer of frost, the poor boy was unaware that his fingers and toes had already contracted frostbite, and without the intervention of the heavens, he would never be able to use them again, if he survived this blizzard of course.
Even though the blizzard was raging forth, and the young child was half covered in snow, he still kept going forward.
His ragged clothes provided no protection against the biting cold, his skin was as red as it could be, and his frail figure, which was literally almost all bones, was a bad thing to have in this cold. If the boy had some layer of fat, maybe this would be easier, but he lacked even that.
He may even be just bone underneath the layer of skin, it didn't seem apparent he had any meat on those sticks called bones of his.
'Cold.'
The boy thought, but inside he was laughing at this cold.
