Jade Fern Grove it rises with the fall.

Her single eye focused on his two yellow, noticing how they had grown distant for a moment before she spoke. What he was thinking about, she did not know, but she had a feeling that it was something deep and personal that she dare not delve into. It was his problem and his alone.

"I prefer snow." She was born at the onset of winter, and had lived in the cold for many a moon. Snow was calm, peaceful, almost beautiful, even in blizzards. Her first thunderstorm had frightened and confused her; it was loud, both with thunder and the pitter-patter of the rain upon the trees. But she soon learned of the different kinds of rain: the storm-rain, the normal-rain, the misty-rain. She loved the latter, especially when fog was around. "Do you live in the mountains?" She gestured to the higher, snowcapped peaks. "Don't you get snow all year long?"