The warm, humid south wind replaced the dry, cold north wind, and the sun rose again, melting the ice and snow slowly.
Spring had arrived.
...
In the fourth year of the Vine Tribe's establishment, early January.
"We survived another harsh winter."
In the bamboo house on the south side of the Vine Tribe, the Old Witch pushed open the door, looking at the melting ice and snow and the sunlight sprinkling on the ground, feeling his spirits lift considerably.
For the Old Witch, living another day felt like a bonus because he was old, and almost all his peers had passed away.
Although he could face death calmly and even had a burial beast hide ready, who truly wants to die when they can still live?
The Old Witch stepped out of the bamboo house to bask in the sun on the open ground nearby.
