[@BeautifulSnow]

The children hid, behind barrels and in the dark shadows that the sun was making. The noon breeze was chilled but not cold, carrying with it the fresh salt spray of the sea. Snow counted, quietly to herself at first, exclaiming loudly towards the end to give any ill faring participants a rushed hiding place.

Opening her eyes she had to blink a few time, a dark figure stood in front of her, hooded and cloaked. The sun was blocked out, and all seemed a bit dreary and down. It seemed the bird song and playful music of the trade market was lost in the long garments this person wore. This was Wain, the undead elf, but Snow knew not of this.