The wind howled outside, carrying snowflakes that struck the window like handfuls of white sand. It whistled sharply, sometimes shrill, making the wooden frame tremble. Sylvia opened her eyes slowly, her vision blurred for a moment before settling into focus.
The cold air pierced her skin, even though the room had been furnished with a small fireplace. She blinked, sitting upright on the large white bed with silver curtains. Her black hair was tangled, falling across the shoulders of her simple gown.
Groggy, she glanced around. The storm outside grew louder, and instinct told her this was no ordinary snowfall.
Slowly, Sylvia rose from the bed. She slipped on her shoes, her footsteps creaking softly against the wooden floor, and walked to the window. With a calm motion, she pulled back the curtains.
Her crimson eyes narrowed.
