Chapter 1: Snow

Storme tapped her fingers boredly on the desk. Once again, the teacher had been droning...Storme's least favorite thing to hear besides she had run out of gum. It was two minutes until the bell rang, and she was anxious.
Placidly, she slipped from her seat as the bell rang--finally--and shouldered her pack as she went out the door. She hardly got five feet when--
"Oh, I'm sorry!" A pale hand extended down towards her. Storme looked up to the person who had ran into her--knocking her over and disheveling her already horrible spirits. He was pale faced, blonde-red hair, and deep amber eyes. His smile was sweet, asking forgiveness, which Storme readily gave, looking into those eyes. Another face appeared by his, a windtanned one, with silvery blue eyes and light brown hair. She has high cheekbones, Storme noted to herself, being one to notice the odd things about others. And silver eyes.
"I told you to watch where you were going!" the other girl exclaimed, with a laughing smile at the boy. She grabbed Storme's other arm and the two hauled her up from the ground.
Storme looked on with envy at the way he looked at the girl. "Thanks," she muttered, and turned to walk away. Stopped short by a firm hand, she turned, once agian, to look at the two.
"Kalia. And this is Gerrid." She was smiling to Storme in the most dazzling way, despite her wolfish features...something Storme had least expected. Nodding, Storme returned the greeting.
"Nice name," Gerrid commented back, meaning it genuinely, she could tell.
"I like it to," Kalia said, smiling. Again, that enticing grin. Storme nearly shuddered under the weight of it. The three were being pushwed roughly about in the hallway, so Kalia began to lead them out. She seemed good at finding trails, darting back and forth, weaving with a strange knowledge through the crowd without being shoved once.
These people are too nice, Storme thought with chagrin, biting her lip as they finally emerged into the light of the afternoon. But I'm an outcas--
"So, do you have any friends?" Gerrid asked, with his gentle eyes prying into Storme's very soul.
"No," she managed to mutter in reply, looking down. Her black orbs of eyes seared into the dirt, as she fervently wished to leave these two people and their kindness behind.
"That's okay, we'll be your friends," Kalia offered...again, with the smile. Storme looked back up at the two, prying her gaze from the ground and forcing herself to face them. Onconciously, she reached up to run her fingers through her jet black hair.
"Okay...if you want."
"You seem nice enough, no?" Gerrid countered expertly, seeming to know how to pay his words about.
Kalia, with her wolfish face and enchanting smile, furrowed her brows and looked over Storme's shoulder nto the forest beyond. "Gerrid..." she muttered, tensing a bit.
Gerrid and Storme followed her jumpy gaze...Gerrid seemed to become alarmed, but Storme saw nothing out of the ordinary. "What?" she asked. "I don't see anything..."
"Look at the way the clouds are. It's summer, it shouldn't be about to snow!" Kalia exclaimed, clenching one of her fists. Obviously, she knew more of what was going on the Storme, and so Storme refrained from questioning further.
"Do you think..." started the boy, He didn't finish as the first flake came spiraling down to the ground. All three shivered simotaneously as the first blast of cold air hit them full force. Storme stumbled--Kalia caught her arm before she fell. Then, without warning, a blizzard was upon them.
Smooth, slender fingers ran over snowy white skin, feeling every curvature, everyone dip and crevice. They traced the lines to black, pitless eyes. Cold eyes. Starved eyes.
"Live to be flawless..."
The fingers moved up, to the straight, thick white hair. Hair that was nearly transparent. It wasn't flawless. But it was thought to be.
"My winter...flawless..."
Voices echoed the words down the hall. A strangled cry replied to them, one that made the fingers wince, that made the slender figure shrink back from the mirror. The pale lips curled down into a scowl, and the fingers cut into the palm, drawing four tiny lines of red. Crimson streaks ran down over the arm, and dripped onto the cold stone floor below. At once, the fingers jerked from the skin...and grabbed a tniy bit of cloth from under the mirror. The blood was wiped clean, and the tiny wounds sealed. Flawless. Everything must be flawless. The fingers curled around a half empty goblet, and heaved it towards the one who cried out. Another cry peirced the air, then grew silent as a muffled thud echoed down the halls. The lips curled up into a smile once more.
The harsh cold bit through Storme's tanktop where it did cover her, and soaked in through her faded blue jeans. A shiver ran up her thin body, racking her sense in more pain then she was already in. At least she was under the biting winds...under the stinging flakes...but it was still only thirty two degrees farenheit, zero degrees celsius, Storme reminded herself quickly. It was becoming increasingly hard for her to breath, and she knew that surfacnig would be crucial soon. Eyes watering and hearting pounding, she dug her fingers into the crusty snow and began to dig her way out. Having forgotten all about Kalia and Gerrid, she was suprised when cold fingers wrapped around her flailing arms and hauled up on her. Gerrid looked worried, his pale face drawn and wearied.
"Come on Storme, stand up, I can't find Kal!"
"What?" Storme realized it was no longer snowing nor was the wind blowing. Gerrid's limbs shook horribly as he dropped and began to dig fervently at the hard snow. Storme herself could fainlty make out a bit of flesh below the cold white substance, and at once, she too began to dig, not wanting to see any death. Neither of them realized when their fingers began to bleed...or when the snow was rapidly disappearing...they were so intent upon defying death, that everything seemed oblivious. They hardly even noticed when the eyes began to peer upon them, seeming ever curious, and ever hopeful...