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He was just one of those people: passing by in the night, seen and forgotten, a fleeting memory. 

He walked barefoot through the snow, not really bothered by the cold. 

He walked into town alone, eyes on the ground before him.

The winds whistled like distant screams, echoing through decayed tree limbs and rushing past the houses nestled in the valley. 

The few people out in the night air, mostly huddled together around bonfires, stared as he walked by, but none dared approach. 

A young girl, running in a wild game of tag, slammed into his thigh, and he smiled down at her. 

She looked up into his face, a 19 year old boy with white~blonde hair powdering his cheeks, one eye dazzling green, the other brilliant sapphire, and took off with out saying a word to him. 

 

He frowned, but walked on, used to it, clutching his thin arms together, his scrawny shoulders shaking beneath his faded cloak of blue material. 

He was thin, the awful thin of too much activity and not enough warm meals, his belly board flat beneath the linen shirt once sewn by his mother. 

 

Things had been different once, but that had all changed five years ago, on his 15th birthday. His father had said every man must pay his way in this world, but who'd hire a mute boy? His mother's protests fell on deaf ears, and he was cast out, alone.

 

The years dragged by, winter after winter dropping its icy spell, but it was bearable. This winter had been unusually fierce, and he felt the cold chill his very core, as he walked along the dark woods path outside the village, eyes on the horizon, his bare feet sliding into the deep powder beneath them. 

 

The decayed trees whispered eerily with the winds, the cold blue glare of the moon lighting his way.

He came to a beautiful clearing devoid of all movement, the snow glittering a glowing beneath the blue orb above, hanging in the heavens like a crystal. 

He leaned his tired body against a tree, watching the stars and skies, sliding down into the snow, deep in a layer of soft white.

He closed his eyes, bathed in the glow of the moon, unknown, and unseen.

 

When the sun rose the next day, he was gone, stilled and quieted by the nights hard freeze.

A smile was on his lips, tinted blue by the cold. 

He was safe and warm, after all the hard years, freed from the harshness of this earth. 

 

Nameless, unknown....

Set adrift in a sea of white snow. 

 

 

END

 

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* eating ice cream* Hey Timid! Where did you get the idea for this? It really great! *gets a brain freeze* Ow ow ow! Brain freeze! BRAIN FREEZE!

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* eating ice cream* Hey Timid! Where did you get the idea for this? It really great! *gets a brain freeze* Ow ow ow! Brain freeze! BRAIN FREEZE!

You'll never believe me if I told you. 

Very nice work. Definitely more poetic than something I could ever come up with...anyways, again, nicely done!

Thank you. 

I like you found it poetic: that's just kinda my style. 

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* begging on knees* Please, please, please, please, please! * shaking you* PLEASE!!! Please Timid! TIMID PLEASE!!!!!!!

I was listening to this music about the Snow Queen, went to take a shower, and just... 

kinda had this idea, a shapeless figure dying in the snow without ever being known, but being freed somehow. 

I might expand it. 

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