The first snow is here. Finally here.
A small girl plays by the woods and walks towards the river. The river forbidden by her parents\' good sense.
She sat on the riverbank and relaxed. She relaxed, and in her young and careless mind, was still able to believe. Only believe good, letting all bad thoughts fall into the depths of her mind, the valleys of inexistence. She believed everything would be fine, all the time.
But, alas, a fox stealthily creeped up. Her paws flattening the fresh snow and pine needles. Crushing them as easily as she could crush life.
Winter watches and tries to yell the girl\'s name, even whisper it.But she is only an echo.
The fox takes another step and Winter turns away.
She hears a squeak, then silence. Crimson stains lay on the ice, and they leave a dripping trail through the trees.
And you can\'t hear her, but to this day, Winter weeps, as memory of the girl, and of Winter, become frozen under the wet depths of time. This is the ocean of oblivion, and it is endless. Whatever slips into its grasp is forgotten.
Forevermore nothing.