Wilmore felt the ice that was melting on his eyelids, he opened his eyes slowly, there was a sky above, protected by white heavy clouds, the snowflakes were lazily dancing with the breeze, flying down, kissing his face. Under him was hard ice, but rough and frigid.
"Get up!"
The hoarse deep tune wished. Wilmore didn't recognize the voice but his rhythm was enough to persuade him to move up and sit. No wound or anguish he could point out, everything was gone. He saw no one but where he was dropped looked like a frozen lake that was under the blockage of mountains.
"Who is that?"
He stood up, searching around with his gazes.
A wave of frost danced in the air and sat behind him, turning back, he saw the huge white wolf. Its paws could turn the young man to half.
He feared him, pacing backward a few steps, this was the beast that had taken his body, the wolf that wanted to flee.
