Mercury sprinted across the bridge, the water from last night’s snowstorm  soaking through his thick mining boots. The mountains were forbidden, but it didn’t matter. Nothing would stop him from finding his beloved daughter. Low-hanging pine needles dug into his face, but the pain was an afterthought. Finally, Mercury came to a clearing. The snow was bloodstained, and a small, ripped scarf tainted with red clung to a small bush. His heart raced, drowning out the rush of the river nearby. Stumbling farther off the beaten path, Mercury’s hope dimmed by the minute. A filthy hat, the one he knitted for his daughter a year ago, was hidden in the underbrush. The little boots he picked out at the cobbler, only just now broken in by the wolf bites covering them. Mercury choked back a sob, and continued looking for anything, any sign that she was alive. By now, the moon hung high in the sky, illuminating large paw prints coming his way. The wolves were close. Mercury quickly ran through the trees, clutching his pickaxe. If there was even the slimmest chance he could slay the monsters that took his daughter’s life away, he would take it. By the time the tracks stopped, Mercury was just about ready to pass out. By some stroke of luck, he ended up at the entrance to an abandoned cabin, half collapsed and overgrown in the decades it had been left alone. He went inside, the door nearly falling off as he tried to open it. Mercury sat down on the remnants of a rug, and made himself comfortable, though clutching a small carving knife. When the wolves returned, he would be ready for them. He yawned, and stretched out, getting into a warm sleeping position. The last thing he felt before completely blacking out was a pair of strong arms, lifting him up and carrying him into the darkness.