------- Winter. Some call it beautiful. Some call it a nightmare.
Some appreciate it's dark elegance, coating the world in a layer of whitened beauty--- ignoring it's true meaning all together. Destruction. Death. Bleakness--- sound asleep until morning comes round once more.
He watches the snow touch the ground, thinking about how happy his brother must be. This was him incarnate--- and he was to blame for it.
----- "I trust your presence has meaning?"










