Biting Cold
She is numb all over. Her fingers are slivers of ice. Her hair is crisp and dry. She can't feel her nose and her cheeks are on fire where the wind pummels her.
None of that matters though. There is more importance in what she is about to do. She maybe fall over in the snow she's trudging through but she doesn't care about that, not like she usually would.
Soon it will all be a distant memory. She will be graceful and elegant, a creature of the night.
She won't feel the biting cold.
She will become a vampire.
fin.