SUNLIGHT SWOOPED PAST the bare, white limbs of the birch. Golden hues and crimson stains turned the snow to a smooth plain of sleeping fire. Like a nesting bird, wings over its head, the light rippled over the ground, as soft as fanciful feathers. Silence reigned; no other critter stirred.
She sighed watching the light. It would be dark soon, and while that meant a colder world, she was privately glad — she wouldn’t have to keep hiding in this tree. She just had to make it until the sun set.
Written: 19 Dec 2015
Inspired: nothing particular; maybe the season and wanting to re-read The Shahnameh? maybe?