It was a strange sight, he mused.
While he had slept, the cold weather had decided to throw something else in the mix and since six hours ago, it had done nothing but snowed so his followers told him. At first, they claimed it had been a white out, forcing them all to take shelter inside. Now it was a gentle fall, though he could barely see beyond a mile or so.
So white, it was almost painful to his eyes but it was so very pure. Yes. It was so pure.
Hand drifting forward, he caught a flake on his finger tip and allowed his eyes to take in the sight of the frozen water. No two were ever alike, is that what they said about these strange items of purity?
…such a silly notion.
And yet, part of him could believe that. He could easily see something so pure being unique despite how it fell in such uncountable masses. How each flake would be different to the last, no matter how many were compared.
It was because it was pure.
The man blew the flake from his finger while sweeping the fields of white before with his eyes. It was a strange sight, he mused. One he admitted he enjoyed in seeing. The calm, peaceful scene was an alien concept to his minds normal train of thought, yet there it was. It was planted firmly in the forefront of his mind, soothing his thoughts.
The snow was a perfect thing, something that was pure beyond all taint.
Red eyes drifted down to their owners long, almost skeletal hands that were a deathly pale colour. Black robes adorned his thin and deceptively fragile looking body, the fabric sliding down his arms as he raised them towards his face, turning the hands around to look at the palms with marvel and interest, if they were a new addition to his body that were not
White and pure. His skin was exactly like the snow. So very white and so very pure.
White and pure. The snow was exactly like his skin. So very white and so very pure.
The snow was a perfect sight, he mused with a smirk, As was he.