Walden

The following words were called loud and relentlessly into the darkness of midnight many, many years ago, in the time of the Long Winter, T.A 2759. Ice and snow fell from the sky upon the woman scorned; the moon veiled by the blackest of clouds and the whitest of mist, and her voice the harbinger of doom and ruin upon the world and her lover, the one who had left her in the cold as she lay in childbirth, screaming of thirst, of hunger, and of pain.

The trees were so tall and menacing, the undergrowth so heavy and dark that they had been something of a hindrance even for the silver furred she-wolf, and her small ‘magic’. Threatening, foreboding, presenting a nigh impenetrable shield-wall against any ‘outsider’, there was such bitterness in the air, that even Isa had to think twice before continuing.