Christmas tavern thread

Snow lay in thick layers around the quiet town. It was the depths of winter and there was no sign of any normal life. No harvest, no hard work, no merchants or market. Instead there was just the soft sounds of an old man and his dog pattering through the snow.

He approached the light. It came from a wide window, broad and frosted glass. Within hazy figures, blurred from the glass' effects, were shadows suggesting the nature of the people within. They seemed to be celebrating, with arms raised high and as he listened, cheers sporadically came through the cracks in the mortar of the building.

The man paused, his dog sniffed. The snow continued to fall in lazy drifts. Silence, and peace, but within the tavern ...

Life.

The man leaned forwards to press his eyes against the window.