A weak breeze willed a whisper into his ears, cold and numbing, sending ice-cold shivers down his spine. He pulled up his collar, shrugged and slipped his hands into his pockets, determined to ward off the intense chill. Shuffling through a diverse colour of leaves, the lightly forested path he took soon opened up to reveal the park. A robin hopped along a branch covered in pyracantha berries, his breast blending in to make a blur of orange the colour of tea rose. Only his head peeked above the leaves, his eyes catching the sunlight, giving him away. Most of the trees were entirely bald, while others clung on tightly to whatever yellowing hair they have left. Mack paused at the park and took a deep breath. He felt frost daggers stabbing his lungs causing jolts of pain in his chest. Feeling refreshed, he hollered "Lyen!" and felt his breath coming out in hot, insipid swirls of mist.
