(This will be just a bit of creative writing with no particular goal or plot or anything in mind.)

Blue-grey shadows stretch arms across an open, meandering line that might be a path in more hospitable weather. More shadows lay in pools near humps that presumably hid bushes or rocks. An indistinct figure wrapped in furs wades through the snow, muttering softly, though with a definite grumpy tenor.
Eventually the excuse for a path widens a bit and the snow abates to a level that shows the figure to be composed of average human height and appendages. A head lifts and looks forward rather than down for the first time in an age to see the shape of a building in front of them. A sigh, little more than an a movement of air, stops the grumbles. The steps of the figure quicken and soon, the shape becomes more defined, showing a sign with an extra-wide lute. A heavy door with a prominent handle is closed tightly in a stout frame, but a brisk tug pulls it open to reveal a small room with a sign in several languages requesting patrons to close the outer door before opening the inner.

Once inside the figure's hands push back the hood of the furs to reveal a mess of claret floof, then pulls down a cloth to show a relieved face of a human woman with pale skin reddened by the cold. She looks around and her eyes light happily on a bar being wiped idly with a clean white cloth.

(More later, maybe)

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