Cold. The cold ist all she is feeling on her lonely way through the forest. The trees, the flowers, everything that seemed so full of life, so full of hope, only a few hours ago, all this is now just grey and dead. And cold. Neither is she hearing the happy tweeting oft the birds nor is she seeing the squirl, flitting over the path right before her eyes. Or maybe she does see it, but she doesn´t care. Not anymore.
A few deers are standing on a clearing near the path, they lift their heads and look after the young woman in the armour of a man. It nealy seems as if they are whispering with each other. Is this the same woman they have seen before on this day? Who passed by with a bright smile on her face, walking fast, whistling a happy melody? No, it can´t be her, can it? Can a person change so completely within such a short period of time? Instead oft the smile her cheeks are wet with tears, instead oft the happy song you can hear a desperate sound, a downtrodden weeping, breaking through the silence. The warrior, once so strong and proud, has changed to an ordinary girl with a broken heart.