No one controls your destiny. Even at the very worst - there is always choice.
The storm dropped a house on her head.
So he stalked her again. Love makes hunters of us all.
He knew about being alone. The weather was always cold there.
She watched the sun bleed water out of the icicle. Warm and cold working together to make an icicle. Warm and cold anger working together to make a fury, a fury worthy enough to use as a weapon against the old things that still needed fighting.
The world was floods above and fire below