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It is still, unmoving.
Silent.
Engulfing you in its arms like a warm blancket as if to lull you to sleep in peaceful, ignorant bliss. The sound he was familiar with like the rustling of leaves, the cheerfull,chirping concert of birds-seeking-mate, the happy yipping of foxes bouncing in the distances had disappeared without a trace.
It seals all senses, shutting off in a soundless green world.
It is still, unmoving.
Silent.
The familiar path ahead, dimly-lit, coated in pure white, eagerly awaiting your arrival, welcoming you fondly.
He turns around ; cast a quick glance behind his shoulders. Everything is white except the path ahead.
It is still, unmoving.
A rustle.
He pale. He resume his steps, a little quicker than usual. His breathe echoing into his ears, his lungs are burning, steam escapes from his mouth.
The heat rise, his body is also warmer. Still, he can’t shake it off.
The edge. It’s almost there. He can see a ray of light.
Once again, he cast a glance behind him.
It is still, unmoving.
Silent.
Slowly, he exhale and smile as he look at the forest.
He turns around, face the ray of light.
He pale, his mouth gaping. It has moved. A grumble.
Darkness.