Snow caked the landscape and rested upon the bare and dry bark of the inanimate trees, their branches reaching out as if crying for help, as if the cold was too much to bear. An icy breeze roamed the barren area, attempting to catch something in its drift. There was no sign of life anywhere, all creatures were either hibernating or had escaped to warmer regions, some had perished. Flowers and plants had long since died, their withered remains buried under the blanket of pure white that desired to purge the earth, and pass onto its healing sister: Spring.
There was no life to be found, but yet if one was to look through a crack, in the foundations of the wall of an old derelict building, they would be surprised to find a fox huddled within the corner of the building. The creature's once brilliant red and black fur was unkempt and matted, and stained with dirt. Although the thick fur covered its body, it was still obvious that the animal was underfed. It was shivering and had curled up to trap some heat, in which to warm itself up.
The room was dusty and grotty. It had once held inhabitants within its four walls, but that was a very long time ago, and now there was a thick layer of grime in their place; the chairs in the middle were tipped over and were rotting. The table they used to stand around had little piles of snow scattered upon its filthy surface, which had been let in by the splits in the ceiling; these had been corroded into bigger holes through the passing of time. All of the corners had cobwebs that were attached delicately to the buildings surface, although no spiders inhabited them. They were either dead or had fled.
The fox that resided in one of the corners sneezed. The noise echoed around the room that had been silent for so long, as if it had been yearning for noise, even a little echo of the living to remind it of what once was. The fox settled down in that mildewed crook and rested its head upon the wooden planks of the floor. It looked very fatigued and famished, and worn out from the journey it had taken to get to this chilly but bearable cabin. It had wearily climbed over mountains of snow, and foraged through thorn bushes for the sweet, juicy, delicious berries that were still protected by the slash of earth own blades. It had even outrun and evaded its merciless predators. The evidence of the fox's turmoil was evident in the dried blood that scattered its dishevelled fur, it stained the fox's coat as a reminder of the peril it had avoided many times.
It had seen many rough days and it had struggled along. Yet, whilst laying down in the peaceful silence of the decaying building, the fox let out a sigh, as if were finally admitting defeat to the raging white monster that plagued the earth. It had battled the law of nature for so long, and had travelled so far. It had finally found the place it was seeking. The very cabin that it lay down in so solemnly, was the goal it had dreamt of for so long. However, the prize was not here. Its companion had long since been sacrificed to the snow. It was evident in the carcass remains that lay still, next to the resigned fox. It nudged its head toward the milky bones and gently closed its eyes, as if imagining that its lover was still next to it, breathing in the cold air.
Very slowly, the fox's steady breaths began to get shallower and shallower. As if its consciousness was slipping like sand from the hands of life. The tangled orange body eventually became motionless, like an engine being cut off. It took its last breath and became still, surrendering itself to the snow, handing over its exhausted soul.
The cabin creaked, as if mourning for the fox; grieving for the life it had acquired but had lost just as quickly. Outside, the snow raged on and the breeze of the wind continued to whistle through the air.
The isolated scenery was empty of life once more.