Disclaimer: Angel the Series is not mine. It is the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.
She had no idea there was so much blue in winter. The phrase "white winter" was a complete misnomer. Truth be told, winter was shades of blue. She'd come to this realization, imprisoned in the tundra of Illyria's soul. The sky was a bright cyan she could never make into a dye without it being garish. Ice crystals clustered around her feet were a blue grey, the look of death's grasping fingers. The sapphire and topaz tingeing her hair and skin were the colors of her world, the winter wonderland that was Illyria. Wrapped in blue, Fred waited for spring.
