The door slammed, shutting out the cold. The newcomers
were heaped in leather and fur, obviously wearing every article of clothing
they possessed. They hobbled towards a large table, using their weapons the way
old men use canes. One of them pulled his, or her, I couldn’t tell, hands from
the depths of their jacket. The flesh was white like snow. I watched as they
tried to flex their fingers and force some sort of warmth back into the tips.
The rest leaned their weapons against the wall and fell into the chairs around
the table, happy to be alive.
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