...and he laughed a laugh she loved more than the warmest of fires on the coldest of nights.

A monster. For a monster will always be enslaved to a master.

The beauty that withstands all. Stubborn in the harshest of atmospheres.

A flower. White and whiskered in a fringe of ice. Silken petals held together in a loose grip

But eyes couldn’t stay closed forever, unless one was dead. And the dead never dreamed.