A violet sun permeated into her restless mind, and a land barren of all warmth lay before her, she was running from the cold, shivers tingling fearful arrows into her spine. And she tripped. A long root grabbed for her ankle, winding itself around her.
And she cried, she had never seen what form the cold had ever taken, only escaped from it in dreams before, but now, she could feel him breathing into her, she knew that she would see him soon, his steel eyes searching foreign and wide spacious lands for her.
As she drifted in and out of consciousness, her wakened mind, alert, reminded her that this dream had been forever in her young mind. And they had served a purpose, it had been trying to tell her of this impending fate that loomed over her.
Then the dream, her conscious was there too, and she weeped loudly under the violet sun, and the barren lands of the future, and he was all around her, shaking through her torn clothes, pressing his cold, ice tainted lips, to her face, to her arms, all over her.
And she felt no part of her without invasion from his eyes. Yet he was not apparent in hers.