It's dark, cold, no snow though, not in this part of time. It's almost like the weather can't even touch this small gated community that hibernates up on a hill. The soft glow of streetlights compete with the moon, outlining the houses that are dark at this time at night or early morning as it may be. They are all nice houses, clearly so. With identical green lawns. Build from the same set of three floor plans, painted either white or a light blue, now and again there might be a touch of green. All the same, Thirteen waits a block away from the gate. A thin pale shadow of a youth, leaning against a street light pole. It almost seems as though they are competing for the skinniest thing in the night. She is winning.