Coconut Grove a rush of blood booms in my ears,

I am. And the longer he was away from the frosted lands of home, the more he seemed to miss winter as its time here was never long enough in his opinion. Sure the cold to other lingered longer than necessary, but to him, the snow, the bare trees and tracks in the snow, the way his milky pelt blended with the ivory snow, he missed it all every year that it melted away.

As you with the sea, I belong in the snow. The way the chill would caress his body and numb any pain, how one's metabolism slowed in the cold, and needed less food to sustain life, it all seemed better when things were cold.