December came in quietly.
Not the dramatic arrival of the first serious cold back in November. December came the way certain truths came, without announcement, already present before you noticed the change. One morning, the grounds were frosted, and the next, they were frosted even deeper. The morning after that, Eli stood at his window with his hands pressed to the glass and said with complete certainty that snow was coming and that he could smell it.
Damon, passing in the corridor, stopped at the doorway.
"He is right," he said to me quietly.
"I know," I said.
"Can he always do that?" Damon said.
"Since before he could explain what he was smelling," I said. "He just knew things about the weather. Clara thought it was the wolf blood running strong. I think it is just Eli."
Damon lo
