Day 13 of Fall, 510 AV
Mayjor sat down in the fluffy blanket of white powder, his equipment at his side. He patiently waited for his holdmate, Kulde, to come as he watched the snow fall blissfully to the ground. This whole scene seemed eerily familiar; He had been here more than once. His habitual tendency to arrive early to anything and everything often caused him to have to wait. Some may think this would increase his patience, however, it did no such thing.
Mayjor stood up and strolled around the area in front of the gate. Bored, he squatted down and made himself a nice, firm snowball. Continuing his stroll, his gaze remained fixated on the horizon. How he yearned to explore beyond the mountains, to see the world....
He pushed the thought from his mind; He was from Avanthal, and it was there he would most likely stay. He stopped in his tracks, still tossing the snowball up and down in his right hand. When, he wondered, would Kulde show up?