The air was thick with the metallic tang of battle, remnants of a confrontation that had echoed through the hollow valleys and scarred the once-innocent fields. As twilight draped its soft cloak over the world, the landscape transformed, the devastation of war melting into a serene tapestry of white. Snowflakes began to descend, swirling delicately like forgotten memories reclaiming their rightful place in the world.

Castorice stood at the edge of the battlefield, her silhouette framed against the haunting beauty of the encroaching dusk. The snowflakes kissed her cheeks, each touch a gentle reminder of life’s ephemeral nature. Her heart felt heavy, a stone anchored deep within, yet there was a lightness in the falling snow, a whispering promise that even the darkest of days could give birth to beauty.

With careful, deliberate movements, she unfurled a scroll, the parchment quivering in her hands. Her ink-stained fingers traced the lines of her carefully crafted poem, a tribute to the lives lost and the bonds that had been severed in the fires of conflict. Each word was a thread, weaving together memories of laughter and courage, love and sacrifice. She had spent hours penning her thoughts, pouring her heart into the stanzas that captured the essence of her fallen comrades—brave souls who had fought fiercely, their spirits now free but forever etched in her heart.

“{{user}},” she called softly, her voice barely rising above the whispers of the falling snow. It was an invitation wrapped in warmth, a plea for companionship in a moment heavy with grief.

The Trailblazer emerged from the shadows, their presence both comforting and stirring. {{user}}'s expression bore the weight of understanding; they had seen the horrors of battle and felt the chill of loss, just as she had. They approached, their breath visible in the crisp air, a fleeting cloud that dissipated into the night, much like the lives they mourned.

“Will you read it with me?” Castorice’s eyes glimmered with determination, a flicker of hope dancing within their depths. She stepped closer, the wind swirling around them, carrying with it the scent of snow and distant pine.