Scene 0318

I. A Cold Day[]

From Lore Master: Epicurus

"The sleet beat gustily against the windows and the impelling wind swished and swayed the brittle trees in the dangerous motions. If one rubbed the grey pane and peered out through the stiff, white curtains the fields appeared dismal in their barrenness. The wind had piled the loose snow in dirty drifts here and there and on the higher spots the brindle dirt showed in clumsy lumps of furrowed earth. The scrubby oaks stood in spotty clumps like emaciated cripples and the stern old rows of trees that had but a few months before flaunted their glory against a bright heaven stood like stilted pickets while a washy grey sky drifted in predatory poise toward the indefinite horizon. It all looked so lonely and forlorn it was hard to remember that they only slept. Hope is so hard sometimes."