The cold and barren loneliness of a mid-Winter night. Knee-deep snow below you, the silent forest around, and a clear never-ending icy darkness above. The only sound is the soft crunching of paws breaking through the drifts searching for rare morsels. Everything sleeps covered in a mantle of stillness.
Smoldering oak branches carried to the nose on a bitter wind, frozen apples withering on the bough, decaying maple leaves amid ice tipped cedars, a spray of crimson pomegranate blood across the virgin white snow and the only heat is the spice suggested by Dragon's Blood resin.
Yule 2009 Winner