The biting wind struck me in the face, freezing my unbidden tears solid. Slowly I turned my back to it, halting as I did so. Gazing around me, I searched for the familiar landmark to tell me I was on the right path. Wretched snow! It made everything look different. It was almost as if I was in a strange land, with unfamiliar white folk gazing mockingly at my perplexed face. I laughed bitterly at myself as I remembered what joy the first snow always had brought me. From the earliest days of memory, to even this winter, I had welcomed the snow time with gladness. And would I not still enjoy this white season in days to come? Even my name, Nevya, means "snow". But I was in no mood to think of the glad times I had, and would still have, in this world of no colors. I felt as if an icy knife was cutting me, and that a thick sea impeded my every step, yet I must still press on. At last my eyes rested on what I sought, the two loyal soldiers who guarded Peaceful Valley. Tall and dark, they had always stood apart from their fellow rocks, and always will, guiding the weary traveler to rest. Drawing my wool cloak close about me, I re-shouldered my heavy burden and turned my body toward the two sentries, letting the wind race across my face once more.