He stands by the window, staring out over the small village of Monmartre. Outside it's beginning to rain, and Christian can feel raindrops falling on him. But he stays where he is and doesn't move, despite the rain which is starting fall and the cold wind blowing. He continues to stare out of the window. Stares out on the world that once used to be such a bright, colourful, wonderful place. But that is all a lifetime away, at least it seems so. Now, its starting to pour with rain but Christian still doesn't move. He can't seem to think about anything else. He simply just can't stop thinking about the dream he had. It had been strange. He'd dreamt about her. Dreamt that she was alive. It had been the first time since the terrible night when everything happened that he actually didn't have another nightmare about it. Ever since then, he'd been having nightmares about it. Been tossing and turning in his sleep, and even saying her name. And it always ended the same way, always ended with him waking up sweating and then crying for her. Ever since it happened it had been like that, until now. It had been the first time that it had been different. But had been so strange. It couldn't have been like that, it just couldn't. She died, she died in his arms. He sighs deeply and thinks, "It's only my mind playing tricks on me." A strong, cold wind is blowing and the fallen leaves start to fly around with the wind. The wind makes a whistling sound, and it leaves an echo from the church bells striking far away in the distance. He's still standing outside, soaked by the rain. His black hair flies across his face with the wind, which he finds annoying but doesn't seem to notice right now. Then he hears it, he hears a faint voice in the pouring rain and strong wind. He looks around, wondering if there's someone behind him or if it's someone in the streets. But it can't be. It's a woman's voice, and there's only he and Toulouse and the others which live above him. He looks down at the streets. They're dead empty. Probably everyone's inside because of the bad weather. The streets are wet, cold, and completely deserted. The look like the empty streets of a ghost town. He hears the voice again, but this time it's slightly stronger. It sounds as if it's calling someone. He looks around once more, but it's just as empty as it was a minute ago. Then he hears it once more, but this time he can hear words. He can't make them out completely. He stands at the same spot, and concentrates on trying making the words out. He listens, but hasn't got them right yet, and then he suddenly hears the voice. Then he hears the words , "Come What May", echoing in the wind. His eyes widen when he hears the words. He can't believe it. No other woman knew those words except her. It can't be possible. Who on earth knows those words? Their words. He's in complete shock and the only words he can make out when he speaks are, "What?!". "What's going on?", he asks himself. He stops and listens for the voice once again, but all he can hear is the strong wind whistling among the falling of the heavy rain. The voice is gone. He looks down, trying to clear his mind. When he looks up, he sees it. He sees a snow white pigeon sitting on the balcony in the rain. A snow white pigeon. He now remembers what he read about once. "A snow white pigeon, the message carrier."