Cold, the cold of the bitter winter.
Nothing but the blinding cold.
A girl, shielded by the red glow of her coat
Treads through the soft white of the untouched snow.
No. No. Never.
Never to go beyond.
To learn of the new snow.
To leave fresh footprints in that crisp white plane.
The wind howls ominously
Calling to those who will listen.
Most don’t or just cannot.
They hear only what is know
Or thought to be.
The forest calls to you but only if you listen.
Trees don’t shiver without their leaves.
They stand still and strong.
They say only that hungry devilish wolves live in the forests,
Ready to take you away forever.
To kill. To kill. To kill.
Watching and waiting for their prey.
One may never know to be afraid of the wolves or of the people.
And all to be left is that little red coat. Glowing in the snow.