The snow whirled about the encloaked figure. The snowflakes danced around her like frolicking fairies. She stopped in front of me, and as she broke through the hazy, white curtain, I looked up into her sparkling eyes from my frozen seat below a leafless tree.
“Aren’t you cold?” she asked.
“Cold,” I said. “I’m too numb to know.”
“It’s winter,” she reminded me. “Come inside.”
I looked past her down the road she’d come. “I can’t see my way there.”
“I’ll lead you.” Her voice was wonderful, like the trickling after the rain when the sun is shining brightly.
“They tell me you’re a monster,” I admit, “and I’m not wise enough to know.”
Then that woman I longed to follow turned, her blue cloak fluttering in the air. My stomach sank, and a knot formed in my throat. She would leave, and I would die in the cold. But she kept turning, and her cloak kept fluttering until she had lifted it spinning from her shoulders. That woman knelt beside me, draping me in her warmth.
“What do wise men know?” she asked, brushing my hair. “Don’t be long.”
She walked off into the snow, not shivering, not even crossing her arms. She marched into the hazy white of winter. With the cloak around me, I stood.
Tale Told 
An interesting story, one that can be taken in many ways!
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