Bran raised a hand to catch the tiny specks of falling snow. He felt them land lightly in his hand but they weren't cold. He closed his hand into a fist then let it drop to his side.
He no longer felt cold in just his t-shirt and jeans, though he wasn't sure if the ease at which he was able to change the rules of his surroundings was a good thing or a bad thing.
He took his glasses off, closed his eyes, and told himself that he could see properly.
He opened them, and the fuzzy world came back into view again.
So his ability to change the world was limited. This was good to know though it brought him no closer to determining if this was just another illusion or an actual coil that he was stuck in.
Bran looked out at the mountains. They were tall, jagged, and mean looking with snow falling eternally on them. There were no trees, not that he'd seen anyway, and there was a thick mist that made looking down into the possible ravines impossible.
