White clear snow was powdered upon the land as far as the eyes could see. Each step from a soul walking upon it was softer than true loves first kiss.
A ragged beanie with small rips around the rim. A worn-down coat that looked to be thrown into a dumpster years ago. Light blue pants that seemed black for the dirt overwhelming them. The shoes matched for those who never offered attention to him, which most people never did.
He must’ve enjoyed the night time and snow season equally. The town always spoke hear-say of how some would witness him laying dormant in the streets gazing into the nothingness above. On nights of snow even angels couldn’t have, he made several carvings for them with his own body hoping they remind the townsfolk that magic really existed.
Everyone in the town knew somewhat well of him, at least in his younger years. Vivacious young boy with a longing for experiences he may never know.
Anytime anyone would speak or offer him sustenance he shouted in delirious wording while flailing around his hands. He frightened those willing to get close, although he never was a burden to anyone in the town. They overlooked him, which he seemed to accept, while suns and moons continually rose and set. Age has become a trait dreadfully present on his face. His innocence, however, was removed from him long before his becoming of a man.
His prescene was quite a gift to anyone within his bounds in his youth. His absence, unfortunately, quickly became a gift after the events of the young maiden herder. Even when she walked she danced.