A season is either cold or warm, truly it depends on your character.
| With each fall of snow, the lights surrounding the shanty village seemed to only illuminate more. The ground was fairly slick, yet open and devoid of snow. My feet, in those pudgy rubber rain boots, held its traction well enough. Looking up, I see a fountain twice my five foot height. its diameter was even more so and despite its clear distinction as a central spout in the city, there seemed to be no water. Despite its shortcomings, it still held its beauty, with its angelic figure manning the middle. Although it was mostly cracked and aged, it held its own. Center stage in the center of town.
Looking down at my hands, I could clearly see that there was much to be desired. Ridden with freeze and frostbite, I knew my phalanges didn't really have much time left, the black slowly spreading across my index and ring finger respectively. It may have seemed like days, but this damage done to my soon to be lifeless corpse took only a dozen or so hours, simply wandering through the arctic forest behind me as I awaited my inevitable death.
And yet, despite all that, I managed to find myself here, this seemingly obscure town that I've managed to stumble upon. I don't know which direction I walked through that forest, but here I am; face to face with a settlement in a lonely section of the world. However, as I recall from my memory, places like these should have people. This place, this empty yet well lit rotunda, was alone with no one to see it but me.