They walk in companionable silence for a time. The wind buffets them in quick bursts, only to subside into stillness a minute later. Curtis vaguely remembers the way to the meadow, but it's a little harder to navigate with snow dusted over all the landmarks.

(Jesus, to think things outside would look weird with snow on them.)

But eventually, he feels the ground start to slope upward. The tall plants have flattened and frozen, weighted against the ground; every so often he spots one that remains defiantly upright against the winter. It's...good to see.