Pure white. The wind howls through the plains blowing up the powder from the crests of the dunes, cutting off the line of sight of any onlooker past a few pace lengths. There were a few footprints, barley visible that will no doubt disappear in mere minutes. Like something out of a post apocalyptic book or movie, it seems unnaturally empty .
The static of the wind is broken by the barely audible shout of
Are you ready? Before it is taken away by the flow of the wind.
A different voice fights the wind to reach ears Anytime you are!
A shape traveling faster then the surrounding flakes of snow zooms over the top of one dune, and lands, creating an indent in the edge of another. One similar object is returned, but clears the brow of the dune and keeps going. Many of these projectiles are exchanged in this white fairytale land, and eventually the wind dies down and is replaced by a thin sheet of fog.