Tangsu moved along the road, taking quiet pleasure in the stillness of the snow, the peace that it afforded. He liked it, cold as it might be, for the almost unique way that something as light and gentle as the touch of a feather could take everything you had, bit by bit, until you ended. A morbid thought, possibly, but yet in some ways a hopeful one, one of making a difference...<br/><br/>He mentally shook himself, returning from his revere. Here he was, outside, cold enough for brass monkeys, and he was away pondering about the mysteries of slightly frozen water. He smiled, briefly wondering at the funny ways the mind could take you. Straightening his back and adjusting his cloak, he pushed on with renewed purpose. Time to get somewhere warmer than... well, somewhere else, anywhere would do.<br/><br/>Musing on why he had decided to go on this journey, he recalled his master's words. "You may go for a spell, but if you are not returned by spring's first light, then you will have no place here. And if you come back without a souvenir for me, then I'll be deeply upset." Then he'd smiled, turning back to his scrolls. Though he often spoke in an overly flowery way, he meant no ill towards Tangsu, and the words were said in half jest. But he was still a man to respect, and one not to disobey. So Tangsu had packed supplies, warm clothes and other essentials, and had set forth, heading out into the winter.<br/><br/>His feet swished through the snow, creating elongated trails in the wake of each step, the effort of raising them above the snow level not worth it for the return. He looked up, his hood falling askew again, and as he adjusted it hesaw something up ahead. A small shape, huddled on a bridge, barely moving. Gradually he approached the being, wondering who or what it was.