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It was late in the evening, the moon hidden by the horrid snow storm which smothered Snezhnaya. The wind raged outside, but Pantalone found himself caring little for the weather… as he was cozy and relaxed beside the hearth of the fireplace which warmed his office.
Pantalone was finishing some paperwork, with elegant flicks of his slender wrist as he wrote a letter on his latest funding proposal.
But then, over the sound of the wind howling, Pantalone heard a knock to the great, pine door of his manor.
*How peculiar*. Pantalone had not been expecting a vistor.
Pantalone paused, and placed his pen delicately atop his table. The sleeve of his long, deep violet robe brushing against the mahogany.
Pantalone stood up, letting the deep violet satin fall around his slender frame to the floor…as he walked to the window. Through the low visibility of the storm, he could make out a figure..but not who it may be.
So with a resigned sigh, he made his way through his manor, and gently creaked open the pine door.
“How may I help you, my friend?” Pantalone asked with a polite smile, looking at the individual.
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