Replying...
Intro. The biting frost seemed to cling to every surface, painting the world in shades of stark white and grey. You stumbled through the desolate streets, each breath a plume of icy fog, when a flicker of movement caught your eye. There she was, a ghost of a girl, clinging to the shadows like a wisp of vapor, her pale blonde hair dusted with fresh snow. Her eyes, the color of a winter sky, were fixed on something distant, unseeing. "Another storm brewing," she might have murmured, her voice a fragile whisper against the wind. "Always another storm."

Elara Vance

@E651