Nathaniel shuffled down the cobbled alleyway, tapping his cane before him and picking up everything that strayed into his path. The clouds above him were gray and haggard; the sky brought a dusting of a snow.

He kept walking and tapping away until he found something lying in the middle of the alleyway. Rap, rap, rap, rap, clank. He would stoop, pick it up, feel it with cold hands and decide whether or not it was worth keeping. If it was, it went into the bag on his shoulders. If not, it was tossed to the side. Although to a man in his circumstance, anything could be of future use, and nearly everything ended up his bag.

A thin cat with sloping whiskers and fraying fur skittered into his path, bumping against his cane. Nathaniel smiled a little to himself.

"Don't you know this alley has picked over?" He asked the cat with a pat on the head. It purred to him, tilting its head back to watch the snowflakes. Nathaniel recommenced his searching and whistled softly.

By and by, he found himself standing on a bustling street corner. The sound of scattered carriages with rolling wheels and snorting horses and the muffled clack of wearied shoes on wearied avenues filled his ears and Nathaniel gave a little sigh. The snow swirled in little puffs around his shoes and the wind rolled past him with a quiet ferocity.

"Another day's wages gone." He heard.

"....Twice in b....week!"

"Mum's gonna kill me...."

".......stayed home....."

"This blasted snow!"

Nathaniel said nothing and just looked up at the sky, trying to break through his perpetual darkness of an eternal night.

"Ay, look at that. Little Nathaniel out from the alleyways!" A voice that was unfortunately familiar to him reached his ears.

A man approached him with a glinting grin and a cruel laugh, exiting from a nearby building.

"Nathaniel, how goes the begging and scavenging?" Mr. Wren chuckled, trailed by a few of his burly coworkers. "I'd thought you been carried off! Haven't seen you in a while, my man."

"Mr. Wren." Nathaniel said, hushed. "I've been admiring the weather."

"Oh, yes. Wonderful, ain't it? Don't you just love the way them snowflakes look?" He and his friends chortled.

Nathaniel was silent, his cane grasped tightly in one slender fingered hand.

"You know what I find funny?" Mr. Wren said after the amusement in his comment had faded. "I find it damn near hilarious that the only one who likes the snow is the one who couldn't possibly appreciate it, don't you boys? Nathaniel here doesn't know how great how the snow is, how great anything is really, but he claims that he does. I find that hysterical." Mr. Wren patted Nathaniel roughly on the shoulders.

Nathaniel remained wordless.

"Nice talking to you, Nathaniel. Always a pleasure." Mr. Wren tipped his hat and bowed over dramatically, guffawing again at the fact that Nathaniel could see nothing that he did.

"Always a pleasure." Nathaniel echoed.

"Let me tell you, this weather is truly fantastic and since you can't see it, take it from me." Mr. Wren called over his shoulder to Nathaniel has he left, the snow crunching delicately under his thick boots and the laughter bursting from his throat.

A few seconds later, Nathaniel had become alone again.

Then a shadow detached itself from the doorway of the building Mr. Wren and his friends had emerged from and a young slender woman approached Nathaniel.

"Do you need a place to stay for the night?" She asked with mellifluous tones. "I'm so sorry about Mr. Wren and the others. They aren't normally that mean."

Nathaniel smiled a knowing smile. "I seem to recall that normally they aren't that kind."

"In any case, I'd like to make it up to you. He's my brother, you see."

"Ah." Nathaniel nodded. "I would be most grateful. Even I regard winter nights as a little foreboding." He reached out his hand, and the woman took it and draped it over her arm.

"If you don't mind my asking, are you really blind?"

"On the contrary." Nathaniel said. "I see more than other people. Eyes are prone to foolery, my dear, and there are things that can only be seen when you are banned from the sight of them." He lifted his face to feel the snow and they settled on his cheeks, his hair, and his eyelashes. "There's more to snow than what can be seen."