Testing, one two three..
This is only a test, don't panic.. not that anyone's reading this anyway..
It was a dark and stormy night. No, seriously, it really was. We're not talking a little rain, some clouds and a light breeze. This was a full out blizzard on a moonless night, with wind gusts that could pick up an Oliphant and carry it far, far away. Where it could meet up with a circus troop in France and become rich and famous. But where was I?
Blizzards near the North Pole are nothing to sniff at, often lasting for months at a time. When these storms hit, all the unfortunate inhabitants can do is hunker down, trade stories and anecdotes around the fire, and fervently hope that the supplies last. Woe betides any poor soul to get caught outside in such a storm. It was generally accepted that anyone in such a situation was well and truly screwed. This was not good news for the lone traveler plowing through the snow in the heart of the maelstrom.
At first glance, the person or creature would seem to be nothing more than a collection of brightly colored clothes that had decided to take a walk. Not an inch of skin or hair was showing, and a pair of dark-tinted goggles perched on the heap at about eye level. Pink scarves, neon green coats and an assortment of bright orange hats trembled in the gale. The storm itself seemed offended by this barrage of color, and sought to bury the entire ensemble in deathly alabaster.
The figure might have been tall, if it hadn't been bent almost double against the onslaught of wind and snow. It seemed to be plowing through the snow rather than walking over it, which made for very slow going. The bundled traveler struggled up to the nearest snow drift and paused. A gloved hand reached out and pushed on the side of the drift. At first nothing happened, and then a shelf of snow collapsed down and an open door was revealed. The bundle quickly shuffled through the doorway and out of sight.
This is only a test, don't panic.. not that anyone's reading this anyway..
It was a dark and stormy night. No, seriously, it really was. We're not talking a little rain, some clouds and a light breeze. This was a full out blizzard on a moonless night, with wind gusts that could pick up an Oliphant and carry it far, far away. Where it could meet up with a circus troop in France and become rich and famous. But where was I?
Blizzards near the North Pole are nothing to sniff at, often lasting for months at a time. When these storms hit, all the unfortunate inhabitants can do is hunker down, trade stories and anecdotes around the fire, and fervently hope that the supplies last. Woe betides any poor soul to get caught outside in such a storm. It was generally accepted that anyone in such a situation was well and truly screwed. This was not good news for the lone traveler plowing through the snow in the heart of the maelstrom.
At first glance, the person or creature would seem to be nothing more than a collection of brightly colored clothes that had decided to take a walk. Not an inch of skin or hair was showing, and a pair of dark-tinted goggles perched on the heap at about eye level. Pink scarves, neon green coats and an assortment of bright orange hats trembled in the gale. The storm itself seemed offended by this barrage of color, and sought to bury the entire ensemble in deathly alabaster.
The figure might have been tall, if it hadn't been bent almost double against the onslaught of wind and snow. It seemed to be plowing through the snow rather than walking over it, which made for very slow going. The bundled traveler struggled up to the nearest snow drift and paused. A gloved hand reached out and pushed on the side of the drift. At first nothing happened, and then a shelf of snow collapsed down and an open door was revealed. The bundle quickly shuffled through the doorway and out of sight.