Coldest hour before sunrise. Moonlit valley covered with snow. Sharp outlines of pines standing still. Everything seems static, no single move, no birds or beasts, no clouds in the bottomless sky. The air is an invisible, perfectly transparent crystal. Endless quietly ringing sound seems to pervade everything... Is it real? Echo of this question falls into a void of silence. No one answers. Nothing moves. But the feeling is here, the presence, the instinct. Something is lurking, something is hiding... Remaining at the edge of sight line all the time. Maybe it's shadows, their predatory spikes. Perhaps it is the flickering of snow... Firstly unnoticeable vibration becomes evident, it has the rhythm, overtones. It calls someone... Maybe you?
