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Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

  Stitcher slowly trudged through the pearly white blanket laying on the freezing soil underneath. He took slow strides which was abnormal for him, but knowing where he was going he wanted to pace himself. The small flakes of snow fell from the sky and littered his unwashed, greasy brown hair while the wind danced with the end of his scarf.
  He abruptly stopped, staring deeply into the small entrance made naturally from two trees twisted together. Beyond this entrance was a small opening, and in that small opening held the source of the memories that warmed Stitcher’s cold heart. Before stepping foot into the opening he felt tears pinch his eye, though they refused to slip down his cheek.
  Stitcher took in a deep breath before proceeding to reach his destination. He slowly crossed his arms over his shivering chest to try and produce some warmth that a certain someone he knew did naturally.
  “Hey b-buddy.” He whispered as he approached the small tombstone. He stared deeply into the engravement: Flamefreak.
  “I thought you uh,” He paused to reach into his pocket to pull out a average sized rose, though the color was fiery. The red, orange, and yellow mixing in perfectly to create a small fire to warm the grave. “Would like this.”
  He knelt down and dropped it gently. “Things are pretty crazy w-without you.” Stitcher let a small chuckle escape his frowning lips. “L-like nothing has a meaning anymore.” He gently ran his hand along the stone to wipe off the melting snow.
  “Remember that s-snow ball fight that E-Edna started?” He choked on his words. “When we wouldn’t fight back s-she had someone throw that snow covered rock at you, knocking you o-out cold...” Stitcher sighed before wiping a stray tear.
  He couldn’t hold back his tears. When he cried there was a rawness to it, like the pain to a fresh wound. He gripped the closest tree for support as he attempted to hide his pain through stifled cries but he quickly failed as he began to shake. His tears fell endlessly and soon enough, his eye was bloodshot and puffy. It felt as if a drought had hit and there was no more tears for him to shed.
  “It’s not fair!” He screamed, punching the supporting tree. Sighing, his anger left and sadness returned. He stumbled for the grave again, adjusting the flower that was moved by the wind and dusting off some more of the snow.
  Suddenly snow from the branch of a tree fell, hitting him on top of the head. Instead of getting angry he wiped his tears and let out a pained laugh.
  “You got me again…” He smiled sadly. “I-I love you.”

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

  Stitcher slowly trudged through the pearly white blanket laying on the freezing soil underneath. He took slow strides which was abnormal for him, but knowing where he was going he wanted to pace himself. The small flakes of snow fell from the sky and littered his unwashed, greasy brown hair while the wind danced with the end of his scarf.
  He abruptly stopped, staring deeply into the small entrance made naturally from two trees twisted together. Beyond this entrance was a small opening, and in that small opening held the source of the memories that warmed Stitcher’s cold heart. Before stepping foot into the opening he felt tears pinch his eye, though they refused to slip down his cheek.
  Stitcher took in a deep breath before proceeding to reach his destination. He slowly crossed his arms over his shivering chest to try and produce some warmth that a certain someone he knew did naturally.
  “Hey b-buddy.” He whispered as he approached the small tombstone. He stared deeply into the engravement: Flamefreak.
  “I thought you uh,” He paused to reach into his pocket to pull out a average sized rose, though the color was fiery. The red, orange, and yellow mixing in perfectly to create a small fire to warm the grave. “Would like this.”
  He knelt down and dropped it gently. “Things are pretty crazy w-without you.” Stitcher let a small chuckle escape his frowning lips. “L-like nothing has a meaning anymore.” He gently ran his hand along the stone to wipe off the melting snow.
  “Remember that s-snow ball fight that E-Edna started?” He choked on his words. “When we wouldn’t fight back s-she had someone throw that snow covered rock at you, knocking you o-out cold...” Stitcher sighed before wiping a stray tear.
  He couldn’t hold back his tears. When he cried there was a rawness to it, like the pain to a fresh wound. He gripped the closest tree for support as he attempted to hide his pain through stifled cries but he quickly failed as he began to shake. His tears fell endlessly and soon enough, his eye was bloodshot and puffy. It felt as if a drought had hit and there was no more tears for him to shed.
  “It’s not fair!” He screamed, punching the supporting tree. Sighing, his anger left and sadness returned. He stumbled for the grave again, adjusting the flower that was moved by the wind and dusting off some more of the snow.
  Suddenly snow from the branch of a tree fell, hitting him on top of the head. Instead of getting angry he wiped his tears and let out a pained laugh.
  “You got me again…” He smiled sadly. “I-I love you.”