Midwinter's Art
02 Patagona gigas
Only the occasional drip of water from the eaves of the wooden shacks broke the silence as he glided into the village, paused, and tested the air. "No sadness here," he thought, relaxing for the first time in many days. But then? His eye caught a flash of red, discordant, at the edge of the pathway. He tensed, his senses once again shivering with worry. His eyes darted from building to building, searched the tree limbs, flicked over, through and past the spiny branches of the underbrush... Nothing.
02 Patagona gigas
Only the occasional drip of water from the eaves of the wooden shacks broke the silence as he glided into the village, paused, and tested the air. "No sadness here," he thought, relaxing for the first time in many days. But then? His eye caught a flash of red, discordant, at the edge of the pathway. He tensed, his senses once again shivering with worry. His eyes darted from building to building, searched the tree limbs, flicked over, through and past the spiny branches of the underbrush... Nothing.