In the hush, naught but the rustling of coats or of footsteps atop packed snow. A path well worn, but by who or what, we knew not. Above, one could hear it falling. Clouds pouring their hearts out onto the peaks. Heavy but soft it fell. Ahead loomed ruins, much needed shelter. It had been some days in this weather. This had been but a brief trip north, into the mountains. Quick work for the two of us, I was glad to have tagged along With the job swiftly done, it seemed that we would be back home earlier than expected. But the storm. It wept overhead for days. I worried, but two weeks care had been arranged for the kids if need be. It could not storm for two weeks straight. It was just the cold that stung me. The chill felt on faces not covered, though we were thankful for what little warmth lay behind these lined coats and clasped mittens. I wondered and imagined, in clearer skies, that perhaps one could see the house from here. A pinprick on the landscape from so high above. To see the kids playing in the yard like ants on a mound.

In the hush, there came a cry and the rattle of bones. The drum of more footsteps and the powder they kicked up. From round the columns, a hoard of the undead. Hilde screeched, testing her edge on snowflakes as she was hauled from his back and into position between us and them. Mittens glowed, thunder cracked, old bones were broken, ashed and crushed. In but a moment, it was over. The overcast stonework did little to protect from the snow. It threw itself from side to side just as heartily as it fell from above. We searched long for a door or alcove before at last finding just such. One last glow, to cast open a door long since rusted shut. We left the storm, to find the warmth we had so sought.

In the hush, soft words and the rustling of coats. The low crackle of logs alight in halls once-dark. Outside, the storm slowed, as though the birth of our campfire itself had driven it away. Though we would not find out until the morning. With long-awaited warmth found, heavy but soft we fell.