Branches drooped towards the ground, exhausted from their battle with the ice that had settled on them. Snow blanketed everything, concealing all signs of life. The river was frozen in time, the effervescence stopped in its travel to the surface. The sky was caliginous, casting darkness over the ground. A deathly chill was settling into the forest once more. Snow crunched as a lynx slunk along the ground, his footfall the only sound in the forest. His steely grey eyes were fixated on a dip in the snowy blanket that lay against the earth. A burrow, hidden against the snowy backdrop. A head emerged from the burrow, its nose twitching, its long ears on alert for danger. The lynx quickly lowered its body to the ground, eager not to be seen. But it was too late, for the hare had spotted him. Slowly, one by one, its ears turned in the lynx's direction. Its nose stopped twitching, and for a second, everything was still once again. The hare suddenly jumped out of its burrow, and twisted in the opposite direction of the lynx. Fear coursed through its veins as it made a desperate attempt to avoid capture. The lynx quickly jumped after it, his wide paws breaching the cold, white surface of the snow. The hare's tiny paws skittered across the surface, kicking small clumps of snow into its wake. It ran and ran, knowing that this could be the last few moments of its life. Snow cascaded off a branch as the hare passed beneath it. The lynx didn't hesitate for a moment, and jumped right over the blockade. The warm scent of the hare filled his nostrils as the wind pummelled into him. The hare ran, not caring where to. It could feel the lynx's breathing down its back, it could feel his massive paws pounding into the snow. A crow, watching from a snow- heavy branch turned its head and focused a beady eye on the hare and the lynx. It shifted its feet uncomfortably, nudging snow aside as it did. As the lynx neared the tree the crow was in, it lifted into the air, cawing indignantly. The hare was beginning to tire, its tiny body quaking with fear and exhaustion. It stumbled and fell, its foot snagging on something. The snow gave way to the frozen ground beneath it. The hare scampered away from the impending doom that was almost certainly behind it. As it ran, the hare was aware that it could no longer feel the lynx's paws slamming into the ground, or his heavy breath down its back. Regardless of this, it could still feel the lynx's eyes burning into its sides. It stopped, once again wary of the presence that was hunting it. The hare was terrified. The lynx, currently high in the branches, looked down at the hare. As he bobbed his head, the branch he was standing on bobbed with him, sending snow cascading off the branch. The lynx leapt off the edge of the branch, wind whistling over his fur. Front paws outstretched, the lynx landed on the hare with a sickening crack. The hunt was over. The lynx would eat.