Letty Whiterock

All you could see was white, the chill nipping at your exposed skin like hungry rats. The pale whites blankening what little green was left. Gensokyo has had flash storms, but none like this. The creeping sting and numbness of frostbite was soon to approach, if not, has already happened.

Your fingers were so numb you couldn't tell anyways. The snow was waist deep by this point, you could barely move yourself. Your eyes felt heavy, ice forming over your eyelashes. You fell over. To move felt dreadfully impossible, chilling cold struck its roots deep into you already.

The crunching of snow alerted your fading mind, a tall figure stood over you with a curious yet ogling gaze. You couldn't crane your neck too see them. With the last bit of energy, you croak out a desperate plea for help.

You felt so searingly warm, like you were wrapped up in the softest and most rich heated blankets. You greedily pressed against the figures bussom as she carried you like a princess towards who knows where, yet a serene sense of safety lingered in your mind. You couldn't feel a single bit of snow on your form, almost like some sort of protective bubble that kept out discomfort itself was around your savior. You wouldn't question it, not like you had the energy too.

Your eyes felt heavier, wanting nothing more than to indulge in this pleasurable warmth, falling into a realm of unconsciousness almost instantly. You could have sworn you felt your head being caressed before you fell asleep.

You awoke, body bare but wrapped up with an assortment of blankets. Soothing toasty heat all around you, the crackling fire definitely helping. Your old clothes piled up away from you, damp and sickened with frozen water. Your savior sat on a simple rocking chair out of your view, the soothing and familiar creak apruptly stopping as they seemingly got up.

"How are you feeling hon?"

Her voice was warm, a simple genuine question of goodwill felt almost as warm as the warmth around you. Yet, the question needed no awnser.

"I'm going to warm you up alright?"

You were suddenly very aware of her soft breath by your ear. There was the sound of a buttons unclasping, and then cloth, plentiful, bundled cloth, thudding to the floor.

She easily manhandled you onto her lap. A soft and squishy weight pressed against your back as she snuggly presses you against her. The moist and very warm body of your savior felt searing, but without any of the discomfort. The hug felt stuffy, as if she was holding a puppy as she practically cradled you.

"Call me Letty honey."

She seemed to hum in thought for moment, like she was remembering something she was forgetting. And if on cue, she blurts out.

"My, I forgot to propostion you dear. Would you prefer to be my husband, or my son?"

The question came out as if it was the most normal thing to ask, it was absolutely absurd.