A place far north, at a suburb filled with snow. We randomly followed a trace to the entrance of the lost woods. While walking, The sound of shoes stepping on the snow, the spruce branches effectively bear the accumulated snow. and the air has a slight smell of burning wood. We walked aimlessly. In the woods filled with snow, there were no creatures to be trace. They probably on winter sleep? Hence, we felt lonesome. If a griffin appears, we likely to ride on it and fly, admire the woods from sky-high. The daytime is almost swallowed by the night, and we have no room to stay. We both left the entrance to the woods before the night came, and passed-by a frozen lake. We returned home followed the direction of the small village with warm street lights.