The blinding light on the snow...
It hurts my eyes... burns them...
Well, of course we shouldn't have been out there... we knew the storms were coming, the blizzards, the swirl of blinding, trapping, freezing, burning snow... But we are you and we are restless... And we had to find it... and we had to kill it. It had taken on of ours, and that one's blood flecked the ice and snow on the path throught the forest... the forest of dancing white trees, their peeling bark torn and scratch by the beast, by our prey who was also out hunter. We were armed with our blades, our shape tools to slay the thing, and it was also armed with the sharp of its claws and its teeth and its eyes.... and the heat of its breath to melt its path and the stink of rotting flesh that eminates from it always... I know I am frightened, and maybe the others are too. But we are all blinded with rage and heavy on the beast's trail, we smell it, and we will track it to then ends. But in the end... will we kill it? Or will it kill us? For all our toils... for lives spent iving in fear of it, hiding, protecting the places we thought safe.... gathering aruond the fire and hearing its claws on our doors... it's growls rattling the windowpanes, the windows we boarded up... we would not look on it's face.... But all that's gone now, miles away, and we are in the cold blindness of the snow and the beast is... ahead? Behind? Waiting in the trees? Waiting... for us? I can't rid myself of the feeling... It is so wild and it hunts for us as we hunt for it, and it knows no rules, it will come while we sleep and paint the trees with our blood...
And the crows will hang upsidedown from the trees and watch the carnage with hunger.
Cheza Calanthe Community Member 
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Community Member