The calls of a distraught child shook the forest. Pitched against the howls of the snowstorm, they echoed desolate, unanswered. The youth – a fawn, it appeared – cried incessantly for his mother. They were separated in the cold and he was lost.

Ominous trunks, swirling upward into spider-web tree branches. Snow, flakes, and gusts of it, piling down. That seemed to be the forest's only reply.

The fawn trekked through terrain he had never before witnessed. It all looked the same, anyway. She was lost. She too was searching. She was going to find him. Comfort him. Escort him home to their safe, warm copse.

A silhouette appeared in the white. Slender frame, graceful legs, perked ears; enough to make him stop in his tracks, halt his callings, but still foreign enough to keep him from approaching.

Daunting antlers; the figure definitely did not belong to his mother. Approaching the fawn closer, the great stag showed himself. With his solemn, leering stance, he also revealed the reason of his presence.

Inaudible words mumbled; they delivered a message the fawn had already received. He lowered his head to the ground and surrendered to the winter. The season had dragged on, robbed the child and his mother of any warmth and comfort, and at the last minute, during the first emblem of spring's arrival, ripped her away.

He followed the stag, uncertain of where else to go. Giving the past a final glance, a silent scream of why? why? why!...he closed his eyes, and childhood slipped away.

Together again in dreams they shall meet.