An Elf's Tale, Part 24

Even with the thickest apparel made from the hide and fur of a Gliurbeast from the far north, it did little to stave the biting cold from ravaging through her body and freezing her joints, stiffening her muscles. 

Eshwlyn tightly clung to her cloak, resisting the burning impulse to cough, furtively wiping away the cold sweat from her face, as she struggled to keep pace with Wilvur's strides growing only quicker, louder, a sense of urgency echoing across the manor walls. 

"We bear the heavy burden of the present in hopes that our future may be lighter," Wilvur whispered, a musing gaze watching as mounting clumps of snow bury away the last sliver of moonlight from the corridor windows. "Surely our tomorrow together will come to be a most prosperous venture indeed. What do you think, Eshwlyn?"