Take a ramble with me.

First ramble

Their sharp keen could be heard inside the room. 

Every window was shut tightly, the tints on them making the sunlight muted. The lights were on creating an incessant buzzing and there was the rustle and groan of humans moving and breathing and simply being. 

Still they could be heard. 

It was easy to pretend that it was just the wind. After all it was a rather windy and cold day. The logical reasoning would therefore be that the wind was simply whistling. 

Deep down, though, everyone knew the truth. 

They kept themselves hidden, the ‘how’ completely eludes me though, and would not constantly keen. One moment just the natural noises of a class in lesson could be heard- feet shuffling, muter laughter and the crinkling of paper. Suddenly they would start. Sometimes for long seemingly endless moments, sometimes for only short bursts. The volume would be either shrill and loud or chilling low. 

The sound was always the same though. 

To describe in detail their keen would mean to concentrate and listen solely to it which would be a legitimate disaster. A rough description will therefore have to suffice: their keen was two fold. One layer a breathy blow of their frigid air, almost like a sigh. The other layer was precise, a whistle with a razor sharp tinge. Combined the sound was almost soothing, allowing you to lower your defenses and relax. 

Everyone knows what they want and so everyone pretends not to hear. 

To give in to the sound would be a disaster. It would simply be better to wait it out. Wait for summer to come. After all, everyone knows that Winter’s chill hates Summer’s heat.