It was strange; though the sun was shining brightly, the day was colder than usual.<span style="font-style: italic">Maybe a storm's coming,</span>a voice whispered in her head. "I don't think so," Marry replied, "the air of a storm feels different from this. This feels more like... we're going to get another ghost friend."<br/><br/>While Marry sounded strangely pleased about this, a slight sigh emanated from the voice in her head. For a moment, Marry turned toward the Hotel Withers, which could be seen just a short ways away. Over the past several years, it had become the most likely place for new ghost friends to come from.<br/><br/>For some reason, Marry soon became aware of the sun at her back. It was far warmer than the chill air surrounding the equally chill tombstones and bodies beneath. The young, dark-haired girl turned to the white-ember light and smiled. A sudden breeze threw her hair about in a whip lash and she reveled in the brief moment of nature interaction.<br/><br/>"Can you feel that?" Marry asked, seemingly to no one, "The warmth from the sun?"<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">No,</span>said a young and gentle voice in her head,<span style="font-style: italic">But it doesn't look any less beautiful than it ever has.</span>