Winter appeared in a ghostly omnipresence.



Holy white and death black perished any life.



Death released a deep and hollow sigh upon the land.



The sun smiled a feeble grin across the horizon.



His eyes, a blue pool of indifference, withered under this deathly scene.





Appearing as a gentle man in a ragged, leather tunic, possessed an impenetrable encasing of armor that dared any passerby to duel for their soul, released a white puff of breath that shivered in the harsh winter winds.

A wandering soul though not so astray.

He moved with a confident and steady beat upon his destination. A destination that moaned with the break of dawn soon inevitably sobbing at the fall of night: Death’s Wandering.