Whitebark Stream even salt looks like sugar

Countless thoughts wrapped around her mind - some laced with the bitter blanket of ice, but some were warm and thawed the cold just enough for her to breathe, chest rising and falling with the slow inhales she took through her nostrils. The ghost was waiting now, and after Cry's departure she had felt terribly lonely, desiring only to fill that gap with the tenderness she'd seen in his eyes, the very care that had swept into her own; she wanted to stand at his side, but she would have to be patient. Good things came with time, and his return had been promised - he would not leave her, would he? No, she was sure. 

Storm had crosssed her thoughts, too - his angry, spewed words that had been cursed her way, they filled the girl with a great misery. Though she did not love him anymore, he hurt and she had seen the pain leaking softly out of his heart, what he had made out to be fault of her own. She knew it was not, deep down, but she could not help the guilt that poured from her vision as she had watched him snapping.

The Tallimat's breath pooled into the air, creating a cloud of mist - she peered up to watch the stars as they twinkled, and wondered dismally what it would be like to truly grasp freedom, to hang in the sky and glitter like one of those, dancing endlessly; becoming weightless, it was so appealing, and yet feel it she could not.