Inside the carriage, a woman was wrapped snugly in a silver-mouse fur cloak, sipping tea. The amber-colored tea reflected in her amber eyes, while the maid beside her was nearly asleep from the carriage's rocking.
Suddenly, a sharp whistle split the air, tearing through the quiet night. A clear chink rang out, followed by a muffled groan. Dozens of feathered arrows fell and stuck in the snow, then all went quiet. The woman turned over another teacup and poured herself more tea. Steam rose from the teapot as she sighed. What a pity about this set of oil-gray porcelain from the imperial kiln. It would never be complete again with one piece missing. The wheels creaked onward. Behind the carriage, in the snowy ground, an arrow had pierced a teacup.
Theme: Fear no power. Strive for the summit.
