Money? A single hand extends, and the girl can easily see how pale, how white it is, how easily it blends with the snow around them. The man draws her a little closer now, to whisper more promises and sweet corruptions into her ear. "I have money, but you don't need that. It's so very temporary, hm? Wouldn't you like a more lasting gift? Something to last... forever?" The snow falls lightly around them, collects on those blackened shoulders and upon the girl's dirty red hair, "My my... what dirty hair. You've seen much grief, haven't you?" He pauses as the fingers of his upraised hand curl around something, something invisible in that stark white palm. "Money won't let you escape from that sadness, child. But I can."
Hand draws near to the girl, and fingers spread open to reveal a most beautiful, delicate snowflake in the very center of the palm, strangely unmelted despite the slight warmth it his body gives off. "Do you like this?" He whispers in that hissing promise of a serpent, letting her look at the little piece of fragile beauty. "Do you know why it does not melt? Because I don't want it to. Because I give it power." The snowflake emits such a faint, lovely glow as the man seeks to set that snowflake in the girl's palm. Cold, but if she is not used to that yet, she soon will be. It stays there a little while, unchanging, before the glow fades and the snowflake melts within her palm. "You can do that, too."