Our land is always so. The wind comes from the west, and it is bitterly cold, and it blows all year long. We have no half so much snow as other places further north, but yet it is twice as hard to see, as it never settles on the ground. Some days you cannot see for how it churns.
The snows could become fierce in Stormwind, but most often they were mild. Everything would be covered in a dusting of snow, and the local children would make snowmen and clothe them to resemble different people in the city.
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[ And it will be wonderful to send him sprigs of them, to see how well they grow. ]
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[ She'd mentioned the rains and the storms. To add to that the bitterness of winter's chill, truly it must be a thing to weather year after year.
One would expect the folk to be as she's described, stoic and sturdy. But Gilia remains everbright, even in her moments of doubt and distress. ]
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The snows could become fierce in Stormwind, but most often they were mild. Everything would be covered in a dusting of snow, and the local children would make snowmen and clothe them to resemble different people in the city.
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Oh, it sounds wonderful. How sweet. We cannot leave the house for very long, during winter. But that I would dearly love to see.
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[ If only they were free to do so. Instead of trapped here, playing these games the city continues to throw at them.
They'll find a way to get free, he knows that in his heart, but there are times when the homesickness strikes particularly hard. ]
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[ A fanciful notion, but one she is happy to entertain for awhile. ]