catluvvergal010

Snow gleamed, white and nearly blinding, atop the roofs of the small village of Skaatsted. The icy flakes had long stopped falling, but save for one set of footprints, the now-white roads were smooth and unmarred; indeed, it was not the snow but rather the great, frigidly cold gales that kept the village dwellers inside, buffeting the walls of the huts in which they were huddled. The great white-capped mountains loomed majestically over the scene. At the foot of one such mountain, there stood a most unhappy-looking teenage boy. The door of a small cottage, sheltered from the wind between two rocky crags, creaked open slightly. An elderly ma