The stinging wind of that evening and snow flying about contrasted greatly to the horrific scene on the ground, a crumbled up body that not too long ago breathed its last, and succumbed to the unforgiving grasp of death. A stench of rusting iron filled the air. Blood cascaded into a warm puddle around the body, and in the midst of this, the frolicking of what one might have thought was a hatchling making snow angels.
"Such warmth..." The Kid softly cooed, getting a slight chill from the wind whipping his body.
It took not even five minutes for him to finish up again, making one careful U-shaped...
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