Hoarfrost Call

The night is cold, and I am lost.
Clouds hang heavy over the winter sky.
Every tree is the same,
Every root, rock and trodden path
They are all hidden under dry powder snow.
Mine are the only tracks I see
And they lead me nowhere.
And the night is so cold.

End of the woods, now.
Pines give way to dwarven twigs.
They can't hold back the cruel wind.
It bites my neck with cold violence.
Strange, I don't remember lowering it.
The gusts pick up, now.
I should turn back.
Even my bones are like icicles.
At least they can't melt.

The night is silent.
My footsteps alone echo in the void.
Hunger relentlessly gnaws at my gut.
Or is it fear of this lonely world?
And what is to come.
I can't tell anymore.
It's so cold.

Last of the woods are behind me now.
Strange, I thought I had turned back.
Wind blows past me again.
A breath of ice with a secret message.
But I don't know what it says.
My legs grow tired, and I know it won't be long.
I'll be home soon.
Or was I going away?

Eyes closed I stop for a moment.
It's getting difficult to keep them open.
The voice whispers again, words between howls.
When I finally continue I hear a campfire crackling.
It must be somewhere close, though I see only the dark.
The shivering has stopped, at least.

I must be getting close to home.
It's finally getting warmer.
I just wish my body wasn't this stiff.
I must have overworked myself.
Nothing a little rest won't solve.

It's getting almost too hot to breathe.
The voice in the wind keeps me company.
It is a beautiful melody, though her words a muffled.
I pull my hood down to hear her better.
Strange, I don't remember putting it up.
I should leave it behind.
The night is so warm.