---

Asking for warmth from the woods

Silence from within

The bright light above frozen in place

Etched the names with my last breath

All is asleep

We all thought we would live

He is catching up

I can feel his breath

Gnawing at our flesh

Biting at the marrow

Tearing at our sides

The claws ravage the wounds deeper

We are ghosts in the lodge

Whispers in the branches

From the white pines

To the midland scout

We are weary

We ask to let us go

Pleading we cut the last of the fingers

Letting blood flow to the snow

Nothing colder than steel

Iron has froze in the veins

Plunging further in the Au Sable

Blanket me in your darkness