*is struck, as though for the first time, by the startling thought that you are nothing like her first (and only) love, who could sit for hours in silence and contemplate a winter landscape*
*slowly, thoughtfully* Winter does not trouble me, to be honest. It lends a certain... clarity. *faint smile* I used to write my best poems during the first snowfall, on Arda. My father would ask Lord Manwë to time it for the festival, and— *cuts herself off with a soft laugh* Oh, never mind. I still enjoy winter rides.
*looks at you and contemplates the sunlight filtering through the trees, playing over your features* What is your favorite season, then, if not the winter?