Chapter 2:

Red Snow.

         The night crept on. Aramil’s body still lay limp on the soil. Blood soaked the earth.

Cursing soldiers were somewhere out in the distance, disturbing the nights peace, but from here their curses were nearly inaudible.

A cold wind blew through. Aramil was still limp. Drops of white powder landed on the ground. It was snowing. He started shivering violently, but alas his eyes did not open. He was bleeding too much; the arrow must have hit a blood vein.

         Slowly, Aramil became incased in the snow and ice. A bush he had landed next to guarded his face enough so that he could breath. Blood seeped into the snow, hinting it with streaks of red. He was barley holding on to the will to live, but something deep inside him kept him living… For now.

It started to get brighter, the sun was coming up. An hour passed. The sun was completely out, but it was blocked by the grey sky and the falling snow.

                                                             *****

    Inside a small farmhouse hidden from society, three people began to awake and prepare for the day ahead. The first to be up was a young boy of nine years, Rothimil by name; who was sitting in the family room. His main excitement was that his older brother would be back from town today, and he couldn’t wait for him to tell stories of what happened during his visit. He hoped that someday, he to could go with his brother to town… He had only been there once before, and from what he remembered, it was a wonderful place. There were so many people it was overwhelming for him, and the buildings were so large!

       The other thing on his mind was the wonderful fact that it was snowing. Hopefully his brother wouldn’t be too tired to have a snowball fight!

Interrupting his thoughts were footsteps coming down the hallway from his parents’ room, and he turned around to see who it was, and to his delight it was his father, wearing his coat and warm leggings. His father was a fairly young man, but very wise. He was also very strong by Rothimils’ standards; he could lift an entire tree! His hair was black and cut short, and he had a beard that reached half way down his neck.  “Are we going to go out into the snow?” he asked; excitement in his voice. His father smiled, and nodded his head. “Aye son, feel free to have fun this morning. There’s not much work to be done today, and your mother has planned a large warm meal for us today with the meat your brother is going to bring back today.”

         Rothimil was overjoyed and ran out the door.

The snow was easily three feet deep, and it was still snowing! This would be a grand day indeed. He roamed around the yard, said good morning to the chickens, and shook the trees so snow would fall on top of him; laughing the whole way through, unaware of what lied net even 40 feet away from him.