Hideaway Strath I remember hating this

: Closer to Cedar Sweep than the Hideaway Strath entrance.
: Evening, the sun has just set.

A winter moon, distant and pale, hung in the dusk beyond the pine spires.

Sanri lingered. Her gaze was unfocused. She listened to the snow-blanketed world around her and in a graceful arc, leapt to pin something soft and slightly warm in the palm of her grasp. She plunges her nose in to the snow soon after, reaching.

A burst of sweetness upon her tongue. A downy feeling, like swallowing cotton, leaving her thirsty—without thinking, Sanri nibbles at the top-most layer of white, which leaves her wanting.