The wind howls harshly, rattling the windows and creating an eerie howling sound as it takes its fury out on the shingles of the house. The lights go out, leaving us in the pitch black of the descending night. Freezing we wrap our blankets tighter around our shoulders and step into our slippers to keep ourselves warm. As the temperature drops, due to the cold winter air we walk downstairs, the steps creaking with each motion. Stumbling we manage to fumble for a flashlight in the darkness, gripping to it tightly. I press the thick button engraved into the side, watching as the room becomes lit with golden light. Cautiously we walk to the living room, our dark shadows casted off of the walls. The room is dark when we get there and we grab logs, lighting the thick wood with a match. We watch eagerly as the small spark grows, spiraling into flames. We sit there, warmed by the fire, drinking hot cocoa, listening to the howl of the wind and the pounding of the rain.