She sat, surrounded by snow on a small hill. Before her endless wastes of snow stretched, blinding her.
She did not care. She felt nothing and everything.
The others had tried to comfort her, reassure her…
But that did not stop her thoughts. She had lost a bid to gain shelter, but how could she feel cold? It was her fault Sithrial was gone. The least she could do was suffer for it.
Maybe things could change.
But not soon.
She laid back in the snow, alone save for the two moons above her, and dreamt for the first time in weeks. Of everything.
Of Sithrial, of Eversong, of her parents, her family, her friends in the Magisterium, the Convocation, her childhood, her love…
And by the time she woke up again, she felt no better.
So she kept dreaming.