Autumn isn't out the doors yet, and the chill in the air is unmistakable. The fog, thick and dense is not too far off either.
She pulls her warm clothes closer and sinks into what will be the most natural state for her, her cold winter. Her true element is at peace here, in the cynicism hidden in the biting frost,the malice in the needles of the wind, the reassuring cold on her brow that soothes her frown-lines that have been hurting for a while, unknown to her.
There will be no sun to sneak a smile out , no warm breeze to make her want to dance, no distracting sounds outside the window.
It will be calm.
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