Abhay’s P.O.V
It was snowing again. The ground was completely white.
This part of the valley didn’t usually get much snow, but it was unusually cold this year. And I knew that it would only get colder, winter only a whisper in the air and yet it howled with a ferocious chill all around me.
I looked at the waterfall in front of me, untouched by the winter chill. Jharna, that was what we called it. The literal Hindi translation of a waterfall, but it just sounded right to us. It was freezing outside but I knew it would be nice and warm inside the pack house. It would also be noisy with the new packmates. But I liked that noise. It was welcoming. It was home. And so was she.