Haunted Wood winter is coming

Before he knows it the shadows have condensed in to a facsimile of a wolf; he thinks for a second that it is a coyote, but what's a coyote doing here in the snow — aside from cutting a ragged figure against the waves of flakes — but they're warm and that makes things a little better. Whatever reason this creature has for being here, Mou is suddenly grateful. They burrow against his chest and Mou's mind makes leaps. He can barely feel them at first because its gotten so cold and he's confused. A darkness trying to - to - to get inside of him, no, but maybe.

He opens his eyes, having forgotten they had been squeezed shut against the sheeting ice, but sees the wolf-shape so cleanly against the white of the storm. His mind fills in the rest. The wolf is transformed in to something small and soft and he is too, returning Mou to a place he doesn't remember. The trees form the roof of a cavern and protects them both from the snow. Her pelt blooms with bits of white where the wind has rallied against the protection and for a split second Mou thinks, whoever you are, you look like a towhee.

His body is quaking with shivers but he reaches for the dark lump and holds them close, whoever they are, basking in their shared warmth, shutting his eyes against the strange vision-memory.