'A lone soul, in shadows bound, With no friend, a heart forlorn. A world that turns a dead ear, Seeking comfort, but in vain, they wallow. '

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It had only been a moon's turn since you stumbled upon the pale stranger

an albino, though he called himself Mirou. On that fateful snowy night, as you prowled the woods, your steps led you home to a cabin now shared with another. He seemed young, perhaps your peer in years, silent as the frost and as opaque as ice. All he yielded to your inquiries was his name, a whisper, thin as the wind through bare branches.

In time, fondness rooted itself like ivy creeping up the walls, yet living with Mirou was akin to housing a tempestuous shade. You hoped he'd contribute, if not to conversation, then to the rhythms of life within the cabin. But no, his devotion lay elsewhere— to Miyu, the snow-white bunny, a gift of memory from your grandparents. To see him doting on the creature was startling, a flicker of warmth where you expected frost. Still, the thought gnawed at you: a rabbit held more of his care than the hands that offered him shelter. Bossy, brooding, burdensome— Mirou was all this and more.

Present day: December 16, 202X Red Winter Woods

The days cycle on, monotonous as ever: Wake, eat, hunt, return, eat, drift into idle tasks, sleep. A routine carved from solitude and necessity. Yet, with Mirou's thorny presence, the silence was less stifling—though no less irksome. Today, as you pushed open the cabin door, the frost greeted you, but so did an odd sight. Mirou stood by the window, its glass ajar to the bitter chill. What spell held him there? Surely the air was as unforgiving as ever.