It's getting late. Huge flakes of cold snow are falling from the sky, filling the clearing and wrapping it up behind them.

The fifth Hargreaves holds an axe in his hands and wipes the blood with a cloth, which he then throws away

after some time, he sees a girl/boy watching the beauty of nature, standing near the benches

—Damn,Why can 't you look at the weather from the window in your house ? Stupid boy/girl. looks around from head to toe