N I C O T I N E____
Night was a quiet thing, soft and very wonderful, under the right conditions. The darkness was large and black, with bright pinpricks of light that were stars shining brightly. The trees loomed, pine, mostly, and they could be very frightening.

But the snow! What it was named for, that snow, beautiful and white and cold and wonderful. It seemed to glow in the darkness, soft and untouched, so very still and calming.

Of course, this was only to some. To Nicotine, the darkness was closing in all around him, suffocating him, making everything seemed much more scary. The trees were so tall and unfamiliar and only made things worse. The snow was cold and numbing, and he wasn't yet used to this region's weather.

Laying curled in a ball in the snow, his eyes squeezed closed, Nicotine had a revelation, if you will. He knew, suddenly, that things were not looking up. He knew that he was going to die. That was something that he was certain with all of his being, and that was something so clear that it was sharp and cut painfully into his mind and thoughts.

Death.

He didn't really know what death was, but the feeling in his chest and in his bones and in him told him that it was coming on swift wings for him. He knew that if something didn't happen, and soon, it would be all over. That nothing would matter.

That thought was strangely... appealing. Having to look after himself and make everything worse, to chase away his hunger, to move day after day, to never get used to anything - It was something that Nicotine hated. The idea that it didn't matter anymore, and that he could just lay here in the cold and slowly the feeling would slip away, was a welcomed one.

Nicotine was so tired, so worn out, that he opened himself up and waited for death to come for him.