The sound echoed through the cottage, reverberating off the walls, spinning around his body and tugging him out of bed. His old heart twisted and squeezed as he staggered around the furniture blindly. They were close. Too close. Henryk raced to the window, only to stop short before reaching it. Fear held him like a lover, rooting his feet to the floorboards as a wave of heat spiraled from his toes to his scalp, licking his muscles with fire, shuddering into his bones. He struggled to find courage. A snowy white body slammed into the window, rattling the glass in the frame. The wolves cried again. Henryk jerked back with a gasp, his vertebrae fusing in a hot rush and his chest clenching around his lungs. Slowly, he crept forward, reminding himself that he was in his home, a safe haven from the terrors of the forest outside the window. Safe from the beautiful monsters that danced under the moonlight just beyond the tree line. With a shaking hand, he braced himself against the wall and peered through the glass.
