The fierce growling sound that echoed from his back froze him in place.

Slowly turning his head, Snow saw a big, scrawny dog, almost as tall as him, sharp teeth snapping menacingly.

After the kids that kept picking on him and hitting him for no apparent reason, the wild dogs that roamed the village’s streets were his worst enemy. Other people practically didn’t pay them attention, simply ignoring them or feeding them scraps of food that, sometimes, Snow could not help but envying. But for him, a small child roaming the streets alone, they could be very dangerous.

Slowly placing the precious food he carried on the ground, he took a slow step back. With some luck the dog would be contented with eating his bun and decide not to eat him instead. He’d rather be hungry than be without an arm or a leg. But the snarling dog completely ignored his offering, menacingly stepping closer to him, making his heart beat in an increasing panic.

Could he outrun it? Probably not. But maybe he could outrun it at least until he could reach the main street. And then, if he was lucky, one of the grownups might just feel sorry for him and chase it away, Snow considered, taking another step back, knowing in his heart that most likely the grownups would just stand and watch with disgusted expressions on their faces, while the raving dog mauled him to pieces.

Looking around for any other options, he suddenly saw a sharp piece of wood and, in desperation, reached out for it, holding it in front of his small body with cold, trembling hands. He would hit it!, Snow decided, steadying his shaky legs. He would hit it and chase it away himself!

The moment the thought had crossed his mind, the dog flexed its legs and jumped him, growling and snapping his sharp teeth.
Clenching his piece of wood as if his life depended on it, Snow brandished it blindly, closing his eyes in fear, hoping to hit it. A horrible, wet sound filled his ears, and the piece of wood was violently yanked from his small hands, hurting his fingers. More bloodcurdling, gurgling sound echoed around him, and a sickening smell reached his nose.

Panting, afraid he might be attacked again, Snow slowly opened his eyes. He'd been so scared that it took him a while until he could understand what he was looking at.

The dog was now sprawled on the ground, releasing a heartbreaking, whimpering sound. Its rear legs kept twitching, and a dark, thick pool of blood was quickly forming beneath it. The piece of wood Snow had held was now sticking out of his belly, dug at least halfway into its body.

Feeling sick and dizzy, Snow simply bent forward and gagged, throwing-up even though his stomach was beyond empty.

His gaze fell on his precious bun, now transformed into a small island in the middle of growing pool of blood, and he simply fell on his knees, large, fat tears sliding down his cheeks.

His chest hurt so much that he was sure he was going to die. And yet he just knelt there, sobbing silently, as pain tore him inside.

He had never wanted to kill it. It had been an accident. He had only been defending himself. But no matter how he put it or justified it, nothing would ease that terrible pain, his heart slowly breaking.

A small whimpering sound startled him, rekindling the terrible fear he’d felt just a moment ago. Expecting the worse, Snow turn his head towards the sound, knowing that he’d be dead for sure if there was another dog.

Blinking his tears away, he tried to focus his vision. But what he saw only brought more tears to his eyes.

There was a dog all right, but it was so small that it could barely walk, falling of its small legs at each and every step. The bigger dog had had a baby, he concluded, sobbing so hard that his shoulders wouldn’t stop shaking. He had just been trying to protect it. That’s why he hadn’t care for the food Snow had given it. All it had wanted was to chase him away and make sure its baby was safe.

Reaching out, Snow grabbed the small dog and hugged it against his chest, trying to keep it warm. Now that its mother was dead, how was it suppose to survive? It was all his fault, he knew without the shadow of a doubt, and now he didn’t know what he should do to fix things.

He couldn’t leave it there, all alone, out in the cold, near all that sickening blood, near its dead mother. But he couldn’t take it home with him either. Not that Sand would chase it away. He knew she wouldn’t. But it would only increase the weight she already had to carry on a daily basis. Besides, this was his wrongdoing, not hers.

Wiping his tears on the sleeve of his ragged tunic, Snow finally got back on his feet. He’d take care of it himself, he decided, hugging the puppy against his chest. He’d find someplace warm for it to sleep, and he’d go there every day to feed it. How he’d manage to find food to give the small puppy was something he would have to figure out later. For now he just really wanted to take it away from that terrible place.

Walking the streets, trying to choose the best place to hide the puppy, he ended up collecting a small box made of wood and an old empty bag, like the ones people normally used to carry vegetables to the market. Those would do for a warm bed, he decided.

He hid the box lined with the old bag in an old shed. The shed had once been used to keep travelers’ horses, when they stopped by the village on their business trips. Now, that the straw roof had mostly collapsed, people had stopped using it, making it the perfect place to keep the puppy safe.

Making sure he placed the box beneath the part of the roof that was still hanging, he tucked the small pup inside it and made sure it was well covered by the bag. The puppy was so small that it couldn’t climb out off the box on its own, which was good, since Snow wouldn’t have to worry about it getting lost.

Still feeling sad beyond words, he caressed the small dog’s head and got up, making sure that the box was well hidden out of sight before he left.

That night, when Sand returned home carrying bread and a couple of fruits for their evening meal, he did his best to hide away as much food as he could, from the share she gave him. He felt bad, deceiving her like that, knowing she’d gone through a lot of trouble to make sure he was fed. But now he too had a responsibility weighing on his shoulders. The small puppy depended on him to survive, as much as he depended on her.

Making sure he went to bed earlier than normal, he made plans to wake up as soon as the sun rose in the sky, so that he could quickly check on the puppy he’d left behind.

In the morning, he left the small shack he shared with Sand as silently as possible, careful not to wake her up.

Outside, it was even colder than the day before, and his feet immediately hurt when he stepped on the frozen grass, the ice melting in contact with his skin, leaving his bare feet wet. Still he ignored all that, making sure he carefully held the small bundle of food he’d gathered, from what he hadn’t eaten the night before. Trying to force his freezing feet to run, the cold air hurting his lungs every time he breathed, Snow made his way back to the old shed where he had left the puppy as fast as he could.

Thankfully there was no one outside, on the streets, that early in the morning, even though a few lights could already be seen through the windows he rushed by.

When he finally reached the shed, he was breathing heavily, and he was so cold that he couldn’t feel his own feet, or his hands, or even his face.

With a look around, he immediately determined that everything was exactly as he had left it. No one had gone there, no one that could hurt the puppy.

Crossing the shed to where he’d left the box, Snow placed the wrapped bread on the floor and knelt down, gently uncovering the small animal. Until his hand stopped moving, his entire body frozen in place.

The puppy was still lying on the box where he’d left it, but it wasn’t moving, lying completely still. And he knew, just by looking at it, that it wasn’t alive anymore.

With a shaking hand, he touched its small, brown body, but it felt even colder than his reddened hand.

Tears flooded his eyes and fell down his cheeks.

While he’d been lying in Sand’s warm arms, the puppy had died in that box, all alone and cold. He should had taken it home, he chastised himself. Worse! He should have never killed its mother. And the image of all that blood, of the dog’s agonizing twitching legs, flashed in his mind, making him sick again.

He had killed them both. Two lives, taken by his own hands. And while the first one might have been justifiable, the one in front of him, that small puppy, had never done him any harm. He had been alive and warm, and breathing and moving just the day before. And now it was dead, because he had just left it there, all alone in the cold.

Picking up its small body, Snow carried it all the way back, towards where he lived, at the edge of the village. Crossing the bridge, he dove into the forest that grew untamed on the other side of the river. This was hardly the first time he went there. In the spring he’d frequently go into the forest to gather sweet wild berries and mushrooms. In the winter, however, the forest was so cold that a thin layer of ice would cover everything, and nothing would grow on the frozen soil.

Choosing a small clearing, Snow knelt down and carefully placed the dead puppy beside him. Using his own bare hands, he started digging a small grave to bury it. He couldn’t leave it out in the cold anymore, he decided, forcing his small fingers to break through the ice and dig into the dirt.

It took him almost the entire morning to dig a hole deep and large enough to accommodate the small puppy. And then he carefully covered it up again, until all that was left was a dark patch of revolved dirt.

By the time Snow was finished, his hands were bloody, his nails cracked and split, his fingers hurting so much that he couldn’t flex them. Lying down beside the small grave, he looked up at the gray sky above his head. He was so cold that he couldn’t feel the cold anymore. It would probably snow any time soon. He knew he couldn’t be there, laying down like that, once the snow started to fall. Whenever it snowed in Woodbridge everything would be quickly covered in a thick layer of white snow in a matter of minutes. If he stayed there, the cold would make him sleepy and, if he fell asleep while covered in snow, he would probably die, just like what had happened to the puppy.

On the other hand, he couldn’t help finding it proper, that Snow would die buried in snow. It was like adding water to a river. And, if he did died, Sand wouldn’t have to worry so much, wouldn’t have to work so hard. She could probably find someone to take care of her. Maybe she could even build a family of her own. After all, what was the point of him being alive? Why was he trying so hard? Lying there, closing his eyes, falling asleep, didn’t sound all that bad. Maybe the puppy had actually been lucky, he considered, turning his head to look at the small, dark mound. All he had to do was fall asleep, and he’d been free from that harsh, painful world. The more he thought like that the better it all sounded. And Snow simply took a deep breath and closed his eyes, feeling the gentle touch of the first snowflakes caress his face.

Silvareiel

Hi there, so sorry for missing yet another update. Yesterday I had to work some extra hours because of the Easter holidays and honestly I was just too tired to review this chapter. Now I'm kind of glad I left it for today, since I really like it (even though it's sad, I know). I have the feeling that if I had reviewed it yesterday it would never had come out as well as it did (though I'm sure its bound to still have a few mistakes ? . Anyways, as usual, I'll upload another chapter today, to make up for the one I missed. I hope you enjoy reading it ? Oh! No language today. Don't you love Snow's memories? We never have weird words when we're reading them ?