The grittiness of the snow surprises her at first, but then again, she wasn't really laying in it during the dream. She thinks that maybe it's a good thing that the real snow surprises her.
She lays there in the snow for a long time, her back slowly sinking in further with each minute, and she can feel herself start to shiver. The snow has begun to trickle over her splayed out fingers by the time she decides to stand up, and the burning sensation all throughout her body is one she finally recognizes, so she smiles to herself as she drags her suitcase behind her and into the lobby of the hotel she has chosen for the week.
It's late and she's the only one in the main lobby, but still all the lights are on in a beautiful display- like it's Christmas here all year long- and she has to squint a little, but in the half-darkness of her eyelids she can see Mal playing with her children, so she forces her eyes open and ignores the slight stinging sensation that follows.
The man at the front desk looks at her funny, and she briefly envies him his solid knowledge of what is and isn't. A woman should not be coming into your hotel at 7pm soaking wet when it is clearly not raining outside. Reality.
"Took a bit of a tumble in the snow," she smiles at him, gripping her totem in her purse for a second, before grabbing her wallet and saying, "I made a reservation earlier? Under the last name Bauman," pushing her credit card in his direction she waits patiently until he hands her a card key for room 312 and a receipt to sign.
She steals the pen, it looks nice enough, and it's got the name of the hotel on it.
In her room, she quickly changes into her night clothes (she's started to feel the cold of the snow now, and she doesn't think getting sick will really help to convince her of anything) and sits at a table on the deck, pen and paper in hand, wrapped up in the heavy comforter from the bed.
The sky is completely dark by now, and the stars are unsettling to her- they're so close and there's just so many- they're too bright for her. She's losing herself again, she can feel it; she's never seen so many stars before, because she's always been a city kid, and this was just a terrible idea coming all the way out here to try and get a grip on reality.
She tries to focus on the sharp tang of the cold air, because that is familiar, at least- she's lived through dozens of harsh winters where it gets so cold that with every breath in you can feel your lungs frost over. But with each quick breath in and out, she just feels herself spiral out of control more- because all the way out here she can hear nothing but the slight wind in the trees and smell the promise of more snow to come.
She looks down at the pen in her hands, and feels the tears at the corners of her eyes. This isn't going to be enough.
She gets up and goes inside; the silence is getting to her.