This year's winter was unusually cold. That was the consensus among everyone in the north.
Even the south was affected, with the first cold wind arriving much earlier than in previous years.
In years past, people in the south would still be in short sleeves, but now they had already donned their coats.
Countless goose-feather snowflakes drifted down from the solid blanket of dark clouds, occasionally surging with the cold wind in a dreamlike, fantastically beautiful display.
But these beautiful snowflakes would eventually land and form drifts. And snowdrifts were not beautiful. They brought a desolate silence to the land, causing all life to wither.
Amidst this blizzard, countless heads rolled across the plains as earth-shattering war cries filled the air.
Scalding blood splattered across the ground, melting the snow and revealing the red, bent-backed blades of grass beneath, adding another layer of crimson to them.
