3E 19, 7 Hearthfire
All over the southern part of Skyrim, autumn was in full glory. Fall color dotted the landscape and set the mountains aglow, and a brisk wind blew through the air. Animals’ pelts were beginning to thicken as their winter coats started to grow in. Treks through the woods were accompanied by the sound of crunching leaves. To many, it was a magical time. But Ben was missing out on autumn this year, because there was no autumn in Winterhold. Just winter. All the time. It wasn’t so much that he minded the snow; he was just bored with it and would like to look at something a bit more colorful for a change. A blizzard had been raging all day and the snows were just easing off, but the wind still howled with temperatures well below zero.