Snow covers the ground, cloaking the landscape in silence. Small birds flit through the still trees, calling out to one another in sharp and brilliant song.
The frozen soil crunches beneath your boots, and rails have been placed on either side of a bridge spanning a steep gorge, to prevent one from slipping on the frozen timbers, and meeting their doom below.
The river, deep and pure, has frozen solid. Tracked around you, in the snow, are the trails of hares and foxes, and the occasional stag—though you cannot see any nearby. The forest seems peaceful, and sleepy, as it meets the cold dawn.