A riddle is hiding there in the forest. Cold mud trembles beneath steps heavy with a premonition—the boy scurries away, leaving his voice in the woods.
He doesn’t speak?
No, not since he became afraid.
Between winter’s yawning jaws, the townspeople shiver; and what is left to cloak themselves in but those familiar rags of bitterness? Eyes gleam with chronic distrust, voices rasp with resentment—and the two outsiders hover at the fringes, proving easy targets. This anxiety is more plentiful…