This was one of those rare times where Yumilia was actually<em>glad</em>that her great-great grandfather had mated with a demon, cursing the family with a long line of fiend-blooded descendants. Wearing no more than her short, frilly blue dress, the snow brought her no discomfort, and the freezing winds were little more than an annoyance as she plodded along through the deep snow.<br/><br/>She kept one hand always on her cute, girlish hat, lest the diabolical wind try to seize it. Her other hand often held the hilt of her enchanted sabre, as if the sword might somehow blow away as well; it was very important to her, a gift from her father after she told him that she wanted to take up fencing.<br/><br/>When the lightning blasted the cliff above her, she could manage only a shrill "Eek!", which was cut off as her small form was smothered by snow. Several moments later she managed to claw her way out, brushing herself off and struggling to contain her temper as she plods after her companions, one hand on her snow-covered hat, and the other clenched into a shaking fist.