The fallen angel in white linens' energy was dark and permeating, such a contast to his vision, her vision? Being completely covered and with such a frail frame was misleading. The dark energy that waved through caverns revealed the lie of frailty. The figure stepped down from it's pedestal, bare foot revealed as the fabrics moved to fall with the body it cloaked. One step. Two step. No sounds of crunching snow from the footsteps came, only more silence. Then the folded wings spread wide, held high. From inside the billowing sleeves peeked a slender hand that reached out toward the youth. It was a gesture that invited him to take his hand, but not a word was spoken.