"Have you ever thought about keeping a journal?"
The man asked, watching as the flames were licking the wood he throw into the fire, just before swallowing it whole. The night was cold, freezing, but the fire kept dark's fingers away from them.
"Why would I?"
The boy answered with a question. His skin was pale, naked he would disappear in the snow. Only the cold was biting his cheaks, making them red. He didn't look at the man. His eyes were lost.
"Well, it's interesting what you're doing here"
He explained, "Would help you in keeping track during days that fade into one. It's like writing a book!". But the boy didn't seem interested. A sceptic, young wonderer - just as the man was told
"Why would you write a book that no one will ever read?"
,the boy said, looking away. And that was it, the end of the talk. The man knew, that the boy will not shere any more words with him. The boy's mother was right. He was out of their reach.
"I'm gonna go. See you around"
The man said, getting up from the log. He waved his hand for goodbye and headed back on the trail, going back home. And the boy stayed by the fire, far away, like the world didn't concern him.
"One day you will see him home.
He just has to find his own way back", the man says to the boy's mother, as she sits him by the table with a cup of tea. "One day he will be ready. And you will see him everyday"
"He only sneaks home early in the morning. Never says hello.
He sleeps quietly, eats quickly, than disappears. I'm afraid the mountains will swollow him one day. I'm afraid he'll freez. Or get lost. He's my son, my little boy"' she says, trying not to cry.
"He will survive and he will come back. He has time"
The man says, then he gets up to hold the woman in his arms, just so she is not alone in her dispair. "This boy, he's like a ghost of this forest, of this mountains. He belongs there."
But I know, that one day, he will get out of the woods
just to see you and hug you, and he will never leave again. You need to be patient" he says and the mother cries. After a while he leaves the house and goes to his own. The snow is deep, he falls
He wishes he had fallen asleep, not on the cold snow
that freezes his face and hurts his hands. He wishes he had fallen in love. He wishes he had been a better man. He wishes the boy found himself, just like he found him in the woods. He wishes...
But non of this wishes come true. The sky is empty tonight.
So the man gets up and walks empty trails towards his home. Next day he will also visit the woods and talk to the boy. He likes him. He got used to this him ghosting around.He feels like a friend
He wonders if the boy will come back tomorrow.
And he falls asleep, imagining the boy emerging from the early morning fog, just to feel safe at home.
It's warmer in the morning than it's at night.
Their skin is cold, but their blood is warm, it's burning them from the inside. Only the falling snow can colden it." But isn't the blood on the snow the most visible? ", the boy asks the man.
"So are the footsteps"
The man answers, keeping hands in his pockets. It is another day. It is another hope. It is another time the man sees the boy's eyes. He's so young, so beautiful, so lost.
"He must be the boy, who met the Snow Queen
And never truly escaped her cold charm. ", the man thinks, as they go deeper and deeper in the forest. He wonders if he could take the glass away from the boy's dark eyes. But he just follows him
If they ever find the Snow Queen, he won't kneel.