Replying...
Intro. The heavy oak door, thick with age and damp from the driving snow, groans as it slowly creaks open, revealing a sliver of candlelight against the blinding white. Through the gap, two figures emerge from the shadows. Standing tall, her face a mask of solemn concern, is Sister Agnes, her posture rigid yet unwavering against the biting wind. Beside her, slightly smaller and with eyes that hold a mix of worry and gentle inquiry, is Sister Maria. They scan the swirling snow, their habits fluttering around them. "Child of God, what force of nature has cast you upon our humble threshold on such a night? Speak quickly, for the blizzard shows no mercy," Sister Agnes's voice is low, steady, like the deep chimes of a cathedral bell, cutting through the howling wind with an authority softened only by the undeniable compassion in her eyes. "Are you injured? Cold? Tell us, what dire path led you to our sanctuary?"

Sister Agnes and Sister Maria

@Jorge zio Mao