Beneath the pair of thickly padded, grippy boots, lay newly rested white flakes. Underneath the boots, the soft layer left a crunching sound as the stepping feet began their way. Behind, traces of a size 11, new season KEEN Brixen low boot were left. In between the final destination of the towering, ice-frosted white oak and the dark alleyway where he stood, was a singular arched way. Dripping from above, eager daggers of icicles slanted away from the calling oak, daring him to proceed. Despite the warning, his feet trudged on without hesitation. Ahead, ghostly pale bark coated a faded, decaying body. This body engulfed all surrounding attention

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