my cabin (Chapter 2)

Up, up Evoee Mountain.

Chapter 2: I Think I See a Fox

         We were enclosed now. The tall pines which were waving at us from a distance now bare their prickly grin, and that accompanying brick wall eventually passed right back into the ground, leaving us alone with nothing but the black vegetation. Here and there, however, I could still make out hidden peaking stones. We could follow this bread trail all the way home, I thought somberly.

         Without the sun, it felt dire. My attempts to thaw myself by kicking up and down on the hard snow were in vain, it was too bitter and dark. The only noise other than the cyclone around us were the air-bombing pinecombs, ditching their tree posts. Ducking here and there, I could barely even see the snow falling, save for the few flakes that landed on my red nose.

         The higher we got, the colder it did also. The circular view of what we can make-out around was enclosing upon us in a shroud of darkness and a wave of obscurity. We would have no sense of direction without the angled toes embedded in the blanket, pointing to some far off place unknown to us.

         With a great plop, something quite invisible hit my head. I yelped. It fell softly into the snow by my foot, it was a pine cone. Now vindicated, every chance it took to stay behind I responded by giving it another hearty kick. Deeper and deeper into the forest it went.

         My companion paid no mind to my pine cone. Tom stopped trying to keep conversation long ago, and was now concerned with covering his blue face. The only times he peeked from his cover was whenever he was unsure we were still following the true path. It was getting easier and easier to miss the large footprints for a few feet, before coming along them again.

         My face perked up a little when I noticed new markings in the snow, entwined with the drowning ones we were familiar with. They pitter-pattered lightly, following along. I wasn’t sure if Tom noticed.

         I looked up as the path turned slightly, and now we were heading uphill. The white tall grass which previously had only outlined us now began to grow tall where our feet trudged. Tripping here and there, we could hardly make out what remained of our lifeline ahead.

         The hill wound up and up while we waded through the cold brush and snow. The trees here weren’t pine, but dusty dying beach. Their rough logs pointed high into the cloudy black sky.

         After what seemed miles of walking, the hill smoothed, and we could go no higher. Up here, the snow was up to our waists, and my legs were quivering. A couple kid-sized boulders circled the outcropping.

         Tom let out a sigh of despair, “We went with the wrong track.” I wasn’t looking at him. My scarfed head was tilted while angling at the other attendant of this scenic overlook.

         Sitting on top of one the white dusty boulders was a red fox, its sparkling white eyes glistening through the waves of flakes. “I think I see a fox” escaped with a steamy exhale from my lips. Quivering silently while locking eyes with the shadowed critter, I thought “Maybe it understands us. Maybe it’ll lead us to its warm den and feed us fox hot co-co…”

         The fox jumped behind the rock while I shifted my weight onto my other leg. I was unaware that, deep buried under the snow, lived a steep decline off the side of the hill. The hours of snow pile-up simply covered up against this hidden hard side. With another great blast of flurries against my body, I was shoved off the hilltop.

         All at once, my feet desperately sled against the loose white coverings before my feet grabbed at all. My elbow struck hard against a stone as I tossed and turned through some biting bramble, flying down. I felt the warm dribble of blood be squeezed from my fresh cuts as I hit the rocky side over and over again.