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Snow is a fickle thing. It’s seen as graceful, silent, and gentle. To those unaccustomed to silence, this holds true. To those who live to listen, they hear the true nature of snow. They hear the bitter anger held. In the susurrus, they hear the sharpness of the crystals; the twisted cruel words screamed as it floats to the ground in a mockingly gentle way. Even in death it holds that cruelty; melting into skin, bringing the person’s body temperature down to its level. Snow is a wicked mistress that will not leave. Xie Lian is used to cruelty doled out by the playful world. The world knows not of the pain it causes; it only sees the life it brings, flowers springing from the earth, birds washing themselves in the puddles, the chirps of the small animals, and the breathing of the largest beasts. Xie Lian can feel no hatred for something that brings so much love and life into the land. The snow hurts less than the rain. The rain pelts relentlessly down, like tiny darts. The snow has a grace period to it, it can’t quite drench you like the rain can. It was still freezing, and although the Heavens were a home forgotten to the wandering god, he still remembered the warmth they held. He’d forgotten the air could be different temperatures until he arrived in the human world. Even after all the years of wandering different lands, he couldn't quite adjust to the fluctuation of temperatures.
The cutting wind ripped him out of his thoughts. With a shiver, he glances around, completely lost and confused, with the unbreaking expanse of snow keeping any hint to his current location a secret. Cursing quietly to himself he realized he was incredibly lost. His extremities were slowly losing feeling, and with every step, he felt more numb. He was, admittedly, underprepared for this journey, especially since this adventure was definitely not planned. Xie Lian had a nasty habit of falling asleep safely at home, and waking up in a completely different location. Usually, he awoke a bit dazed and confused, but in a land he was somewhat familiar with. This was the first time he had woken up, which he assumed was so far away. He had nothing, except his (admittedly) filthy robes, Ruoye, and a lackluster sword.
It wasn’t hard to realize he was going to lose his life here. A “stronger” man would accept defeat, laying down to die of hypothermia gracefully. Xie Lian, however, refused. Even with a seemingly endless tundra stretching in front of him, he kept walking. The snow crunched underfoot, and each step felt more laborious. The snow fell thicker and faster, as if to taunt him, or slow him down. In a daze, he vaguely registered the slight burning sensation; his robes were slowly becoming damp with the snow. If he had the energy, he might’ve become concerned; as it was, he barely had the energy to think. He was in full autopilot, slowly eating kilometers beneath his feet, as the sky became darker and darker. Soon, he wouldn’t even have the energy to crawl.
He didn’t know how long he’d been walking, or even if he was headed in the right direction. He kept repeating a useless mantra in his head to keep going, but even now that voice was silent. Everything was silent; nothing was around. He could surely take a quick nap right? A nap wouldn’t hurt. He didn’t even feel cold anymore, if anything, he was starting to overheat. Something in the back of his mind screamed, begging him to stay awake and keep going. With a relieved sigh, he slid off his jacket and after turning it into a makeshift pillow, let himself rest.
He didn’t know how long he was asleep, or what woke him up. He felt numb, and so tired. Attempting to fall asleep once more, his ears finally focused on the muted voices around him. He heard panicked shouting. That didn’t seem right, he was alone when he fell asleep. Attempting to open his eyes, he found it impossible. Frustrated, he tried to assure the voice he was fine, he just needed rest. No sound came out. His limbs felt heavy, and he realized the futility of trying to move. He felt himself be wrapped up in a soft velvet cloak, and lifted. The jingling of bells from his savior slowly lulled him to sleep. It was impossible to move, so he might as well rest. If he was lucky, he’d be back home when he awoke. A gruff voice above him told him they were headed home. He was safe.