The wind howled into the new day, tracks in the snow leading only to the death of the child as he followed them into nothing. The sun began to rise, the never ending battle against the moon now won, but to no avail, for the coldness lingered, the light doing nothing to penetrate the eternal darkness he lived in. the sent of blood surrounded him, covered him, lay across his mind. Attempting to soothe him was futile; the battle was over and he had lost. the wolves cried that night; howling as the wind, weeping for their own.