The evening was very dry, and the moonlight shone on the ground, casting a dim yellow hue over Jasmine Yale's figure.
She looked down at her feet.
Familiar with every blade of grass and tree.
Today, she wore a white coat with a burgundy scarf wrapped around her neck, looking quite sweet.
Her hair had grown long, the tips curling slightly, adding a touch of allure to her sweetness.
The winter winds were cold, and everything around was in a state of decay.
She was waiting, silently waiting.
The scarf covered half of her face, but still couldn't fend off the night's chill.
She shivered, blowing on her hands, her eyes misting with a white fog, crystalline tear drops hanging from her long lashes.
Since she arrived in Landon, she had never missed a winter there.
Memories became disjointed.
Every winter, her hands and feet were always cold, that icy sensation keeping her tossing and turning, unable to sleep at night.
