That night, Ian Preston was called out by Silas Cheney to have some drinks.
As it ended, tiny snowflakes started drifting down from the sky in a soft whisper.
Coming out from the entrance of the club, Silas lazily leaned against Julian Zimmerman, squinting up at the sparse stars in the sky, chuckling, "For once the weather forecast was actually correct."
"Where's Thea Lynch?" He had drunk quite a bit tonight and wanted to find Thea to come watch the snow.
Julian was both amused and exasperated, "Thea's not here."
Thea Lynch was still in Westmere.
Silas made a sound of realization, remembering. "That's a pity, the snow here in Coronet is so small, it's likely Westmere didn't get any at all."
Next to him, Sean Bell opened the car door, saying as he got in, "Not necessarily, it could be the exact opposite."
"Makes sense." Silas gave a thumbs up, praising Sean's cleverness.
