>>Enya
The snow had fallen gently in the night, blanketing the old courtyard in white.
It was a crisp morning—so cold it stung the tips of my ears as I stepped out. I hadn't meant to walk this far, but my thoughts had been heavy again. Sleep had been fleeting. The same worries circled over and over, eating at me like frostbite.
The tree stood like a sentinel in the middle of the field. Bare of leaves, branches coated in ice. And beneath it, a figure crouched in the snow.
My breath caught.
Ahin.
He hadn't noticed me yet. His back was turned, cloak trailing in the snow, shirt torn at the edge. He was murmuring something in a low voice, barely audible. I stepped closer—quietly, like I didn't want to disturb something sacred.
That's when I saw what he was doing.
