"She was sitting on a cold field that was reflecting poor light of Eweca and barely
visible stars.... White while daytime, the snowfield was colored blue because of the
cloudy night sky over Sidhe Sneachta. It was cold. The wind was blowing, moving
little waves on dry snow, making flakes fly and droping them on the black robe. Some
snow flakes were landing on her hair and melting there slowly. Maybe little snow
flakes were feeling unsure they should turn into water and drip down... Later
they were turning into ice, sticking to girl's hair.
The girl was not paying attention to that. She was also not paying any
attention to her campfire that had stopped burning half hour ago. She was not moving,
only looking on the sky and the trees dressed in beautiful white costumes. She was
listening to usually scary but so sad and lonely songs of coyotes, pleasing
to her ears and to her soul. She was dreaming... Dreaming about anything in the world,
being in a kind of trance, balancing near falling unconscious from the freezing cold in
this deadly land.

...

The sun will appear in an hour or two, but nothing bad would happen. While playing
with Death, the girl always save herself with the powers of magic. Wild evil coyotes fear
to move closer to the mysterious Altar of Druids, so they would never attack her at
this place she usualy choose for her sunset meditations...
It's cold anyway... and it is refreshing... Maybe it is too refreshing.
That's why she loved to visit Sidhe Sneachta at night"