Arndalf Huderic turned over the blinds to no avail, for there was no further sunlight to dance on his walls. Sighing instead, he turned around and headed back towards his room slowly. These days he was getting old, fast approaching the grand old seven-zero on records. He glanced again at the slowly emerging stars. Even with his storied past he had yet to become used to the Long Nights, despite having lived here for what this year had just marked to be a decade. Before pausing to sit on his couch, he stopped and squinted. Is today a school day? he mentally asked himself, and, remembering that it wasn't, elected to head towards the secondary bedroom of his home anyway.
Inside the room and under a bedsheet was his granddaughter, Rose. A living reminder of her parents, the fourteen-year old had made a name for herself as a chatty but not outgoing high school freshman, and one with a strange accent at that. He'd done his best to inculcate what Werman culture he could--sooner or later, he supposed, they'd have to return to the Fatherland instead of remaining cooped up in the cold of their southern cousins.
He shook her awake, "Long night's messed your sleep, girl. Let's head out for some coffee." he suggested, half-expecting a typical teenage rebuttal of 'No!', perhaps in the local tongue instead of theirs, or, better yet, English. But, ever agreeable, Rose simply sat up and wiped her eyes, gazing at her grandfather briefly before shrugging out a yes. And so they packed on their thick winter coats and snow boots, and headed out into the biting cold. Their target was the town center's coffee shop, and inside they entered as familiar faces, both of them sitting down on a side table before Rose eagerly used the opportunity to pretend to be an adult and order themselves some black coffee. They took their time drinking, the generational and social gap sadly far too large for them to have anything worthwhile to talk about outside of the general happenings they both assumed the other would try to talk about any second.