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An eternity of cold wind. White sky, white earth, white ice coating his face, his hair, his hands, cracking into his armor, freezing the seams, prying him apart. As though it knows he is still alive. Knows, and resents him for it. Why should he have life when all these mountains know is death? When all he knows is death?

He has seen cold like this before. For many years he lived in it, unafraid, wondering at its delicate geometry, its purity, the blank canvas of the world in its beginning. He has been alone in cold like this only once before. That time, like this, the numbing marrow of death began to make its home inside his bones. This time there will be no cave, the ice whispers. No fire, it says. No grey eyes under a fur hood, it screams, no breath steaming from the one he would come to love, because

This time he is alone.

The whiteness falters for an instant. Through snowy eyes he looks, and the ice wails with hunger.

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A small character piece for An'tajhor to tease my upcoming mod following the story of him and his partner Ja'rasaar between Oblivion and Skyrim. Meant as something of a companion/sequel to this image. Comments and (thoughtful) critique are more than welcome! And for the curious, the shot is unedited.