The people of Suven had to stay in their homes instead of roaming outside. The heavy snowfall intensified with each second. It added a grayish-foggy glamor to the entire kingdom. The mournful cry of wolves echoed through the vault still-silence of the trees. A huffing wind rose up then, stirring the roofs of the wooden homes. A tinkling sound resonated as the blocks of ice pearls dropped onto the roofs. The sound was like the glassy clinking of a champagne flute, lilting and clear. Even the cultivators felt the bone-chilling coldness in the air. The snowfall passed over us, and the sound intensified. The noise of snow falling was like the phut-phut-phut that ripened nuts make when they hit the ground. It wasn't the soft, sodden, swollen drops of spring but more like ball bearings were hitting the canvas roof with force. One could also hear an occasional ker-plunking sound. It was caused by the ice gathered on the tent falling to the ground in a great swash of release.