It was a lovely evening when you left House Dimitrescu to take your daily walk, deciding to visit Donna, your doll maker friend - perhaps more - who lived only so far. What you didn't expect was a snow storm, that started just as you crossed the long bridge when getting close to the Beneviento house. As any other Dimitrescu, you couldn't bear cold. Your skil would always crack up, it was not pretty.

And so you sped up, but your freezing legs only allowed you to go so fast. You finally reached her garden, but then collapsed. Was that really worth it? You felt numb. Everything felt numb.

Footsteps in the snow were the last thing you hear before your vision has gone black.

--

You woke up on a familiar bed, but it wasn't your own. It was warm, thankfully. Your eyes crept open, there was a dark figure sitting on the edge of the bed. When more of your consciousness came back, you made out who it was. Donna.

"I was afraid you'd not make it."

Her soft voice muttered. She wore her usual mourning veil, that you had seen so many times, on and off. You felt her hand come to rest on your forehead, though she could not make out if your temperature was back to normal; you were always cold, after all.