Chapter 82 - Hue and Cry

Needles instead of leaves.

Wide instead of tall.

White instead of green.

The landscape was far, and near. Landmarks few to none.

Pines for as far as the eye could see.

It was slow at first, the snow falling was light, and it was not thick nor very cold.

But as he trudged on, it only grew more intense until the snow fall was so thick one could hardly see more than ten feet in front, and it weighed up to his knees, the safe house was somewhere close, according to the map in his hand.

The Pines did not sway nor even rock, and yet he could swear that they were laughing at him.

He took several more steps. His aura burned for him some warmth into his otherwise exposed body in the blizzard, but, even if it didn't, it was unlikely he would feel anything.

The smoldering air of his own soul burning with each step kept him warm despite the blizzard raging uncaringly around him.