Celebrate The Season:
Stories by Allen Morgan
Art by Vladyana Krykorka
Six stories - 72 pages
They set off together into the woods. It had snowed a bit the night before, so there weren't any tracks of the White Wolf's paws for Winter to follow. Megan didn't see what she was looking for either. Although she dug deep in a number of drifts, she didn't find any diamond ice and it didn't look much as if she ever could.
"This is harder than I thought," she told Winter.
"It certainly is, that secret place where the White Wolf goes is very well hidden."
"He's never told you where it is?" Megan asked.
"He never speaks except when he dreams, and then it's mostly in growls."
"He howls sometimes. Once in a while I hear him at night when I'm lying in bed."
"You aren't the only one," Winter said and she smiled.
Then all at once she stopped dead in her tracks and whispered for Megan to do the same. She stood quite still and listened intently.
"Can you hear it?" she whispered excitedly.
Megan listened intently too, and after a bit she was sure that she did. It was somewhat muffled and not very clear, but mumbly sounds and occasional yips seemed to come from the ground near the tips of their feet. She bent down and helped Winter dig through the snow. They discovered a hole that was small and thin but just big enough for them both to squeeze in. They heard the sounds that they'd heard before, much stronger now and mingled amongst the steady drip of falling water from deeper down.
"I think we've found something," Winter whispered.
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