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.:In the End:.Day 3, Morning.:In the End:. by Way-to-Haven
It's too cold out.
The small black mass of silk smooth skin curled up in the tattered remains of what had once been his divine warmth. The white cloth now stained with fresh ash, turned into a smothering grey. The ash was still warm, it had been for some time. The small being doubted it would ever go cold.
The tree beside him provided one side from the harsh travels of the wind, its cold as death grip sweeping over the land, drawing its icy fingers through each blade of untamed grass could not penetrate the barrier of that tree, the cloth, and the ash. He would stay asleep. He decided. It was unappealing out anyway.
Clouds had gathered overhead, they had always been there, for as long as he could remember- which wasn't long at all. But as far as he was concerned, it was meant to be there. It was the sky, and the sky was grey. Today though, the sky was black. The hovering mass of darkness had hung there for quite some time, and to the trained eye, it look