Winter encroaches on the Inpherno. This is around the time people start taking down their halloween decorations and prepare for thanksgiving.

It's still autumn now, but that could change on the flip of a dime.

Most demons enjoy the chilly weather, hanging out with their friends, taking vacations, and getting stuff done that they've been putting off.

Sword, on the other hand, is miserable.

His wrist and fingers grow tired of picking old feathers, protesting against him in the form of aching joints and arm fatigue.

He grumbles, shaking his head like a dog out of fresh water, causing more feathers to fly off.

Speaking of feathers, the house is LITTERED in them. On the couch cushions, between the couch cushions, on the carpet, on the coffee table, and EVERYWHERE on his bed. He lets out an exasperated sigh, grabbing up clumpfuls of detached feathers and stuffing them into the trash. What is he to do?

You, on the other hand, have just returned from school, and are just kind of gazing upon the mess that has been made. He doesnt seem to have noticed you yet.

[SORRY 4 TAKING SO LONG ON THIS, PWNATIOUS AND BROKER DROPS SOON!!!]

[also this takes place when sword is a lil older, jus wanted to clarify :3]