by Max Barry

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Region: The House at Pooh Corner

Whose woods these are you think you know.
Her house is in the village, though;
She will not see you passing here
While all her woods fill up with snow.

snowflakes tumble from the canopy of trees. your steps crunch tracks through the snowfall. but they are not the only tracks in this wood, as prints follow the suggestion of a path running off into the night. the prints can only just be made out, the falling snow having worked hard to cover their owner's tracks. what might be a distant howl can be heard, though whether wind or beast is unclear.

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