Have you ever stood in open air, with the fog curling at your feet? It cloaks everything in silence; your pupils, devoid of colours, dilate. You can feel the tip of your nose and ears going cold as the fog seeps between your hair strands. You feel the damp clutch at your throat, pouring into your lungs. You see your breath, vapour dissipating, one with the fog. You cannot move. There's stealth. There's mystery. There's seduction.