@searenide A pleasure to meet you, Vellie. I'm Roland, by the way. I'm not really someone who listens to music much whether it's new releases or old ones, so I'll go with today's update instead. It's been a pretty slow Saturday for me and I don't mind it.
@lesoilment Honestly, I'm just as tired of this app. I swear, every single time I open it, there's always a deep sigh and a slow head shake. Anyway, you made it past the guards and I suppose that deserves a proper hello. This has been Roland speaking. Hello, Jacqueline.
The frost comes early here. No one stays outside for long. Not because the night is cruel, but because Saint Clair has a way of making strangers want to stay. The gates remain open. Come closer, if you dare. The cold is hardly the most dangerous thing waiting for you.
Sunday's story; I stepped a little beyond my usual borders today. Nothing changed, though it did feel a little odd at first. The sun was pleasant, at least. One can only hope the people beyond my gates possess the same courtesy.
I: Sangue di Saint Clair.
There were wines made for feasts. There were wines made for treaties. And then, there was the oldest red; Sangue di Saint Clair, poured only for those who already knew they were worthy.
My table waits beneath the candlelight, red wine already poured. My halls remain warm against the northern frost, while beyond the cellar doors, the old vines lie buried beneath the snow. The gates stand open, come in before the wine turns cold.