
The cold winds of Elcon blow through, colder still than usual.

Red Coneman: “Brrr… what an ill wind”

White Coneman: “It's said that the winds are colder, fiercer when they're in a bad mood” Red Coneman: “What set them off do you reckon?”

White Coneman: “I reckon, it's something I don't want to know about, or I’ll be in mood as foul as the winds”