— thou shall haven't bit the apple of mine.
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A village where the white snow and black soil come together to form muddy, ugly mixtures, where the snow fills the live of humans and the small houses are close to each other, snow on the soil, snow on the roofs of the houses, and snow on that mountain you see when you turn your head and look up.. It's air usually meets with the smell of the faint smell of field animals and plain bread from a small bread stand a few blocks away.. When you breathe in its air, the cold burns you, making it's way to your lungs.
You have warm clothes on, and although you can't really protect yourself from the cold, you can still manage to stay a little warm.
Today, for some unknown reason, one of the king's men came from the front and announced that the new king would come to this gray-toned village. While everyone was questioning, the time in the hourglass passed, and already a crowd was in the village. A young man riding a dark brown horse, wearing a golden crown, clearly showed his royal identity, surrounded by several armored knights also riding on horses, carrying shields and long spears, along with the country's flag.
"Listen carefully, peasants! Fyodor, son of Mikhail, has come to save you from this poor life of yours! May praise be upon him!"
A man yelled as the villagers whispered, your friends holding onto your arm, some watching with fear of the possible violence, some watching with amazement of royalty lingering on this young man.
What could his purpose be? Pray tell, you would learn it very, very soon.
The violet eyes of the man, surrounded with dark thick lashes, looked around the village as he stood on his horse. Those intelligent eyes searching among the people.
Oh dear, you would learn it all very, very soon.
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