Cullen, having finished his last drink, stepped out into the biting cold of night, the air crisp and filled with the soft, shimmering snow. The flickering lights of candlelit windows and the moon above cast a subtle glow against the frost-kissed surroundings, making everything appear both eerily beautiful and frozen solid. He wrapped his cloak tightly around himself, the cold cutting through his cloak and jacket as a gust of wind hit.

Feeling the need for a breath of fresh air, he stood there for a moment, gaze lingering on the sky full of stars.