At first it leaked out, held back, constrained, then as time went by it had seeped into its constraints and began a slow drip, drip, drip. But this wasn’t its true form, the shade was not right, the surface it fell on too hard, it forced it to bounce and splatter.

Eventually its carrier took it so far that the landscape changed and the drip fell onto course cold. When it fell it didn’t leap back up again, it just filled in the space, pushed out the air. It made a perfect circle with every drop onto the cold.

Crunch, crunch, crunch, with each laboured step the land hardened but softened if only for a moment under the fall, the carrier slowly falling in turn, but in an unseen, silent way.

Then speed, it had more added to it, changing its nature but not its appearance, the droplets would fly rather than fall. Many of them found a steaming warmth when they touched the ground, surrounded by something so foreign it was hostile, yet it was so similar the assault paused temporarily.

It truly was a beautiful sight to see, the steam rising, if only for a moment, on the hardening floor, soon apart from appearance all that laid on the floor would be the same, solid but movable, breakable when one disturbs it intensely enough.

The frenzy was over but the drip had progressed to a flow, constant but still unnoticed, unfelt, unheeded.

It didn’t steam like the others its companions had mixed with earlier, it didn’t fall, it held on, the best it could to the carrier. Yet it still slid down, down, down. Occasionally slowed by more constraints, but eventually it made it down onto the course cold once more. Dragged along there was more to mesh with the landscape, leaving a greater trail to follow.

Eventually the cold was escaped, and the flow was staunched, a lucky respite found in the frigid world, the unforgiving world, the hateful world.

Such fantasies cannot be dwelt in forever, and soon all had to flee as an intense warmth engulfed in the respite. The sins of the carrier, their unheeded pain had allowed others to follow them, angrily, hastily, mercilessly through their contrast to the rest of the world.

Each and every one, the innocents and the carrier were aligned with each other, flat on the unchanging world, it remained unchanged from one side to the other, their movements crackling the land underneath it.

The flow returned for a moment and again transformed into a torrent, it spread out onto the frigid world drastically changing it due to the volume from the carrier and those they doomed.

The torrent was over as suddenly as it began and with so many foreign companions to interweave itself with the land steamed for a long time.

One perfect circle was made, it stood out from the land so beautifully in its darkness compared to the light that threatened to bury it as the days past.

It was truly amazing, so long as you don’t get to close.

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The Colour: Blood red on White snow