Pixie loved winter. It was by far her favourite season, and not just because she liked the cold. All of the fun that could be had in the snow appealed to her inner child, even though she didn't really socialize with many people. The young girl walked down the street on her way home from her pathetic excuse of a job; she was a waitress at the local tavern and if it wasn't for the fact she needed the money, she certainly wouldn't be working there. Something in her subconscious was forever nagging that her life here wasn't right, that she should be somewhere else. With a large white snow jacket encasing her upper body and the hood of it over her head, Pixie nearly blended in with the snow - and the fact her pants were white too didn't help. It was only by the black bag she carried over one shoulder that she would be visible to any drivers, though she knew to stay far enough away from the road to begin with. People in this town apparently weren't the best of drivers. Eventually she came to her street and looked ahead as she started down it towards her house, thinking to herself about what she should really be doing with her life when, being the distracted air-head she often was, tripped over something in the snow and ended up face-first in the cold. It took a few moments for her to realize that she was laying in the snow before she pushed herself back to her feet. "I really need to start looking where I'm going..." Pixie muttered to herself as she brushed the snow off her clothes - not that it really mattered - and looked down at her feet to see what she'd tripped over, but the snow had already shifted back around her and covered whatever it was; so she took a few steps sideways and continued walking, finally coming to stand on the front porch of the small house she was renting. Then came the awkward but familiar feeling of someone watching her. Or maybe it was something? Looking around uneasily, the brunette removed her jacket and then opened her door.