Crawling on hands and knees, the woman sought blindly for things undercover of stillness and dark. Grasping forward, she found little her way by night. But she had stolen her eyes, glued them forever to nothingness, molding its frame to utter blackness. Mirthlessly laughing with age, the trunk of a withered, dead tree found her palm.
Setting upwards with worry, she led her fingers up his twisted and decaying frame, holding tight to this evidence of past life. But still, she thought, life.
"When everything is gone from you," the bitter wind sang, "You reach out for that which you left to die."
And so she fled the tree trunk for life. His out stretched arms held her tight. When morning came, there she lay, a mass of past recollections of memories and no hope for her void future, lay the woman, arms curling mockingly around the lowest branch of the snow white, dead and gone of heat..tree.