Feb 22
A great storm had blown in two days past and had yet to relent. Billowing clouds of snow danced about outside the windows, obscuring the city below until it had become one with the white mass. The wind howled through the halls and whistled between the barest cracks in stone, leaving nights riddled with the tossing and turning of restless bodies. So much wood had been consumed to keep the fires going that parties had been sent to the Kingswood for more, leaving fingers and toes stricken black and deadened.
Chapter Three - What May Never Be
