Warren stared at the falling snow as he remembered a time in his life when snow had meant more than bad weather. It meant fun. Every year in his youth, so long ago now, he had played in the snow with his father and mother. He had been carefree and happy. He had been loved, and he had loved his parents. Until the day came when they were taken from him. He had seen the snow run red as his father and mother killed several rouges. He had escaped as they fought. And he had loathed it for many years, The thought that they had died while he had run like a coward. He had become a soldier and fought in many wars. Hed seen many things in his life. But the aftermath of battle had always remained the worst.<br/><br/>He shivered as his clothes dripped on the floor. he hadnt noticed he was freezing. His fingers and toes were numb, he couldnt feel them. He didnt care though. He just kept looking out the window.