N was standing outside, the snow falling fast onto his hair, whiteness coating his shoulders and where his deep coat plucked up, eyes staring into the light fluffy death before him. Oil was spilling across the snow, and another drone was there, laying in the whiteness as it swept over them both. But one, was not getting up. The trees around, dead yet swaying still, just like the one below.

You watched on, staring at the drone in the white blanket as he stared forward in the night, the moons illuminating his shape. You were wary, but just stayed there. For some reason, you watched still, the primal instinct of survival telling you to get to shelter or eat. But, you would not move.