Blackfeather Woods a light above descending, below a dark ascending

she moved, tree to tree, until finally, she flew.

but she knew the wolf need't a guide, to know where these old paths led.

snow had fallen. thick, heavy and long undisturbed, it rose to a small wolf's elbows. but the pale bird knew the spot.

she landed, not to far from where snowfall had snuffed out the dark entry into a denmouth. she folded her wings. looked at the wolf. pecked the snow.

dig.