The silent snow fell thick and fast, swirling down from the grey sky to snag on the glittering branches of the evergreens and create thick blankets and drifts on the frozen ground. Amos Parchain looked up from his watch on his goat herd and rubbed his stinging hands. "These winters'll be the death of me" he muttered darkly in his native tongue. The war had taken its toll on the once dramatic scenery of Lithuania. The forests had been savaged with stray shells and fires from the hundreds of Nazi deserters that had tracked through its beauty. The night was fast drawing in, curling in dark licks from the North to streak the forests with scars of gloom and slicks of shadow. Amos whistled to Shep, his boarish sheepdog to round up the herd then set off down the craggy hill to a tiny slate walled cottage, thick wood scented smoke billowing from the tiny chimney. Jumping a gorge on the edge of the forests leading to Vilnius, Amos caught sight of a dark shape, semi cloaked in snow. Twisting in mid-air, the Shepard landed hard several feet away from the lump, the snow lying on a thick branch falling to the frozen ground. As the Shepard sized up the possibly human thing, it proved itself to be very human indeed by rolling onto all fours and very slowly raising to its feet. The Shepard's face paled and his bright, old eyes took in the deathly pale child before him. It was shaking with cold, its dark hair frozen into vulpine spikes along its cheekbones. Its eyes were wild and demonically dark, standing out shockingly from its blue/white complexion. Dark purple lips quivering, maybe from cold and clear exhaustion or maybe trying to form words. The Shepard would never know for the sudden rise had done the young boy no good. His dark eyes rolled and he fell gracefully back to his icy alcove.

Maria Parchain looked worriedly out at the blackened landscape out the tiny wood framed window. Her husband was due home over an hour ago. His soup was getting that skin he hated-he always said it was like eating traction oil. The door slammed open and the man himself walked in. "AMOS! I was getting worried! You said after last."she broke off mid-nag upon noticing the bundle of material in his arms. Silently, the old Shepard gently placed the bundle on a worn sofa. Maria peered at the still body of a young boy, white with cold and shivering. Dark blood spattered his shoulder which seemed to lie at an unnatural angle. His feet, which were bare, had several thick swellings and cuts that looked septic. "What's the poor ting been through?" Maria whispered, kneeling at his side and smoothing his hair. "Will he be okay?" her husband asked, shaking snow from his hair and looking anxiously towards the slight child. " Well a hot bath and a warm bed ain't gonna do him no harm" Gingerly, she picked up the dark haired boy and carried him upstairs.