AZANA BREATHED IN the unusual crisp air. Delicate ice decorated the grass and windowpanes, ivory flowers that had blossomed overnight.
Wrapping herself in a cozy quilt, Azana wandered closer to the window. It was half covered in ice. Her finger traced the flowing pattern. Like vines of honeysuckle, the icy tendrils sported little crystal flourishes, flowery fans that twisted around each other in spirals.
She smiled and rested her forehead against the glass; her body heat seeped into the cold glass.
Written: 16 Dec 2015
A/N: I haven’t written any of these in days. Either I’m starting to get out of the habit or (more likely) I’ve been busy with Christmas presents/feelings of disinterest/lethargy. But it was nice to write about Azana. I was hoping (and excited) to write more about her and Alion (like their actual story) this month.