rewind

It was a quarter past midnight when he first met her on the docks. She was a young woman, shrouded in shadow and mystery. Her burgundy hair was flecked with copper strands and her violet eyes occasionally radiated with an ethereal glow. A trick of the light, he always told himself, though deep down he knew there was something more to her than she would ever admit.

"They call me Sno," she had said. "What about you?"

She knew she could get along with him. She could see it all in the simple fact that he never asked her who she was or what she was doing there so late at night. He never asked her anything at all.

At first.

Sno was never good with people, they had too many questions and far too many doubts. It was rare for anyone to take her seriously, immediately assuming she was either mad or an invalid. Eventually, she gave up and took to doing things on her own, frequently talking to herself or the animals.

But he fit so well with her.

She would never be able to leave him alone.