The world is in my possession. Gullible souls scatter and seclude themselves in their humble abodes. Mewling about its untidiness. Snow wafts onto the Earth, engulfing me like an ashen comforter. A gush of wind pangs my face like hundreds of little knives, Bouncing off without a tinge.
Air turns misty, concealing, mysteries in the paths ahead.
Oh, how I covet to be a white dragon. Wings would open, legs would leap into the frosty sky. Talons would rip the mist, betraying the secrets it concealed. Camouflaged, I would bury myself under mountains of snow, far away from civilization. Mouths opens, yearning for snowflakes to die on my tongue.