She crept silently through their tiny home; small feet bare, long auburn hair spilling out of a half-heartedly done ponytail, and an oversized furry coat swallowing her thin form. Her light weight and careful knowing steps avoided creaking floorboards with ease; the only noise coming from the old door groaning as she slowly opened it. The little girl winced at the sound, so loud in the still quiet of the late night. Inside was a cramped bedroom, neat, but filled with simple furniture. A tall dresser and a small chest, both covered in dings and scratches, a well worn faded rug, and a small bed currently occupied by an older boy left little room to move around in. His skin was just a shade darker than the girl's own pale coloring and his hair a scraggly coal black that stuck up in all directions in his sleep. As he slept peacefully, a thin line of drool trailed down from the corner of his mouth to his ratty grey pillow.

Stifling a giggle, the little girl reached over and poked him on the nose. Mumbling tumbled out of his chapped lips and he flailed a calloused hand in her general direction. However, he remained deep in dreamland. Another poke produced slightly more distinct mumbling and more flailing that smacked the bed, forcing out the laughter that she had been trying so hard to hold in. Sleepy, grumpy, honey brown eyes open reluctantly to see an eager face close to his own; her wide eyes the same honeyed color and her excited grin missing a front tooth. The young boy groaned out her name, "Amara…"

Biting at her bottom lip to contain her excitement, she whispered loudly, "Nazli… do you wanna build a snowmurloc?"

For a moment he just stared at her blankly, her small body practically vibrating with energy only a child could experience as she waited for his response. Nazli glanced at his shuttered window, seeing only weak moonlight peeking through the cracks, and heaved a great sigh. Voice still thick with sleep, he responded, "The sun's not up yet, go back to bed."

He rolled over then, refusing to be subjected to the teary eyed look he was sure she'd be making. A small whimper caused his shoulders to twitch, tempted to turn back towards her anyway. He couldn't ignore the soft, pleading very well either, "But… Big brother, the snow! First snow!"

Nazli didn't respond though, eyes firmly shut and lips tugged into a frown. Amara sniffled, real tears gathering in her eyes now, and rested her head on his bed as she spoke quietly, "You never play with me anymore, always helping papa on his fishing boat or on the docks. It's good you're helping him, but I miss you and we always play in the first now and… And I thought, maybe… Maybe we could play before the fish wake up so you can still help papa. J-just this once."

Crying silently, she stepped back from the bed only to stop when Nazli rolled back over with guilty eyes. He spoke hoarsely, "Put your boots on, your feet will freeze."

Smiling almost painfully wide, Amara rushed back to her room before the dark haired boy could even being to slip out of bed. In a few short moments the siblings were bounding out the kitchen door into piles of fluffy snow with a half moon watching their childish antics. Shushing his little sister, yet again, as giggles kept bubbling forth, he helped her pack snow to make their snowmurloc's base while smiling widely himself now. He hadn't realized just how much he missed playing with her until now, it was worth the loss of sleep he'll be feeling on his father's boat. When they finished their creation after a solid hour's work, and a tickle fight or two, it looked more like a turtle with long limbs than a murloc. No longer caring if the noise woke their parents up, Nazli laughed as his sister cried out in delight, "Name her, name her!"

He brushed the snow off his worn gloves before rubbing his chin in thought, wide eyes watching him anxiously, and moved to the murloc's side. He grabbed the stick arms and waved them around as he spoke in a high pitched voice, "Hi Amara! I'm Amargle and I love warm hugs!"

Shrieking with laughter the girl pounced on the snowmurloc and Nazli moved the arms up in a sad imitation of a hug. He grinned proudly to himself and stepped away when Amara began to babble to her newest friend. However, a moment later a mischievous smirk replaced the grin and he snuck farther away while she ranted about how awful fish smelled.

It was when Amara was in the middle of singing the virtues of owning a thick warm pair of socks that a large snowball exploded spectacularly against her shoulder. Belting out a war cry even an orc would admire, she dived into the nearest bank of snow to pack snowballs for her return fire. Belatedly, the older boy realized he had no shelter from the storm of snowballs now pelting him with deadly accuracy. With little hope of finding any in the open field they played in, Nazli resorted to dodging between making and throwing snowballs though he was rarely successful.

By the time the sun finally began to rise and movement picked up in the house, Nazli looked more like a snowman than a young boy and a lightly powdered Amara was performing her victory dance with flailing limbs. Half-heartedly brushing snow off himself, he nudged his sister towards the house once he was confident no wayward limbs would smack into him. With a slight pout of her lips and with pink cheeks, she looked up at him bashfully as she asked, "Can we do this again? Not tomorrow 'cause you need sleep and rest or you'll get sick and I need sleep too I guess and -"

Chuckling, Nazli covered Amara's mouth with a freezing cold hand and then gently pushed her towards the house again. He replied as they walked, "Yeah, we can do this again. Won't be often though, okay?"

Pleased with his answer, she skipped the rest of the home while he continued to trudge along behind her. Their mother now stood in the kitchen doorway, eyes clearly scolding them, but she held a large cloth in her arms to dry them off. Behind her the tantalizing smell of hot cereal, fresh bread, and tea wafted out and quickened their steps. Dashing in, the children tackled their now grinning mother as a hearty chuckle came from near the table.

A skeletal hand, covered thinly in grey leathery flesh up to the first joint, rested on a frosted window and a pale face peered through at the grey snow covering Brill in a thick blanket. The first snow, tainted and sorrowful. How fitting. No mother with warm hugs, no father with laughter. No brother to play with, not with him factions away and using a go between to avoid direct contact with her. The bony tips of her fingers scratched the glass as the sun began to set. If only that goblin priest hadn't helped restore her memories, she could have remained ignorant of how broken things truly were. Ignorant of the love neither sibling could feel anymore.