On Kyrie's end, time passed slowly, like sand slipping through a giant hourglass—one grain at a time as if it had lost all meaning. There was no night, no day, just the blizzard that assailed the husk, he, and the rabbits wherever they inhabited.
The fact that it never stopped made the hazardous task of keeping track of time harder than it should be, even without daylight and night to guide him. Kyrie stood near the entrance instead of the depths of the ruins.
He made the mess hall his face, so he could see the entrance of the ruins with more ease, although without light all that remained was snow blasting the derelict vehicle.
If the winds ever thought of changing to a troublesome direction, the chances of the entrance ending buried by snow were concerning. He could dig through the snow, but it wasn't an event he wanted to happen.
