Eager to find something better than a less-snowy hollow tree, you push on into the woods. It's still cold, and the going is a little rougher with fallen branches and logs. But the movement is keeping you warmer than standing still. Even if you grit your teeth to keep them from chattering, and cram your hands in between your sides and your arms.



Daylight has begun to fade, sinking out of view behind the trees. You glance back the way you came, and can't see the edge of the forest anymore. Just your footprints tracing back as far as you can see.



Hissing out a breath between clenched teeth, you turn back to keep going.



That's when you see it; a flicker of warm light ahead between the trees. It's moving, and you're too cold to worry about whatever it is being a threat. You hurry, pushing your tired legs to run.