It was cold. It was far too cold to be outside. The sun had set, and the frost had settled everywhere. The wind that rushed through the dark shadows of the forest blew the fall leaves about with chilling gusts. It was far too cold to stay outside on a dark night like this.
But for some, the choice to remain indoors was not theirs to be made. The owls that hooted into hte night lived easily through the cold, much accustomed to the drastic changes in weather that so often befell their homes. The wolves in the distance howled together in a loud and serene melody. The air they exhaled was visible in the night, caressed delicately in the moonlight. A small brown mouse scurried about the fallen leaves, seeking shelter from the claws of the owls, and the teeth of other predators that hunted him.
A young woman walked among the shadows, breathing warm air into her palms in a futile attempt to warm her cold fingers. Long strands of silver hair draped so thickly around her thin body that any who saw her would believe that she wore a hooded silver cloak. Her pale, bare arms shivered silently. The black uniform she wore did not have sleeves to keep her warm, and was not thick enough to be considered good insulation on a cold night like this. She gazed about the dark shadows of the cold forest with tired dark eyes. She had barely slept since the night before last. She would have gladely slept now were it not that the cold had chilled her to the bone, and that she was waiting for a man that would expect her to be awake.
She'd been waiting for him in this wild forest for nearly a week now, and each night she spent waiting seemed colder than the last. Once, after rinsing her hair in a stream, she'd woken to find to find her silver strands coated with frost, and and stiff with ice. She was afraid if it were treated roughly, her hair would break with the fragile icicles. She'd waited all night, cold and fozen among the leafless trees, until the sun rose again and slowly melted her icy hair and fingers.
Tonight was the coldest night yet, as winter was fast approching and she silently feared that the man would never come. She feared more and more as the past that she would be left to die of the cold, alone, and provide the animals with a feast of her frozen flesh. Perhaps the man would come too late, and find her dead. Would he feel guilty? Pity her? Or scorn her for being so weak?
She leaned back into a tree that stood behind her. It was only a bit taller than the small woman with silver hair, and the rough bark rubbed against her back with a frosty touch. She sighed deeply, cursing the weight of her heavy eye lids. She was sure that if she slept now, she would wake completley frozen, if not dead. If she gave into the unconsciousness that she longed for, surely the predators of the forest would ake advantage and kill her before the cold could. If she slept now, the man might come and leave, not even sparing a glance for the foolish woman who had not even stayed bothered to stay awake for him.
But even as these thoughts passed through her mind, the woman felt her body slowly sinking into a state of sleep. Her thoughts eased into dreams, and her worried expression relaxed to an expression of peace. Her shivering limbs slowly became still, and a soft tear foze on her cheek.
