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The wind blows, shuffling through the fur. The snow rests under four paws. Trees hide the body from onlookers. A paw steps forward the slightest bit, resting itself in the snow, cold but not enough to bother. Covered in bristled fur, a tail rests from it's previous wagging. Ears open and at attention for any prying eyes. Nothing. Snow falls everywhere giving the evergreens a different color to wear. Alone. Eyes searching finally close and relax on the exhausted lids. Each breath that comes out is colored by the cold. Only bark, pine and snow can witness this. Without bothering to sit, a head is tilted, eyes still closed and ears closing in to relax as the eyes had. Another white cloud comes from the red mouth before taking a long breath. Then release. He howls long and sad and broken as he is. Another breath. Another howl. For many long minutes, there is only the vibrations of the sound. Echoing through nothingness. Then, nothing. Ragged clouds coming uneven and the liquid flows slower. Legs collapse, first the back, then the front. Soon, even the head falls into the snow. The breathing evens out, as if sleeping, until even that sound comes to an end. The red snow tells the story of a battle to those eyes that could not interpret the wolf's final howls. But even that is soon covered by pureness falling from the sky.