High winds had whipped the pines into thrashing wands, stripping the remaining pine cones to fall to the ground with little thuds, barely audible abov... the cacophony of the storm. Black, scudding clouds shrouded the landscape, creating bizarre, moving shadows of dark over dark, blotting out the usual features of the pine forest.The rain, driven almost horizontally by the fierce gusts, had been falling, well, not falling so much as, sideways pile driving, against the cottage’s gable wall, to. Innumerable small paths criss-crossed through the trees and the two girls were walking on one of them now, heading towards their next class in one of the scattered clusters of buildings. The campus was broken up into many small sections so that it would have a rural, almost wild air instead of the usual congested concrete vistas of the average modern college campus.The month was November and the summer heat was finally over. Victoria thought to herself that the winters here were usually much. More

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