The Blind Rogue.

The forest echoed with the sound of their howls as they hunted their prey. The ground frozen with the depths of winters touch. It's gentle grace laying a blanket of purest white over the darkness of the dense forest. Glittering in the moons pale blue light the snow almost looked like it was a layer of diamonds. White shining diamonds that would soon be stained red with blood, her blood. It would be quite a mystical beauty to walk through. If the scent of death, bloodlust and fear was not drenching the air. It's soft down of fluffy snowflakes piled thick across the ground, forcing ancient trees to bow their limbs in submission, slowed our struggling legs even more and tiring our already exhausted bodies.