Chase in the Hollow

The snow had not stopped. It was hailing slowly, in flakes, which appeared to be suspended in the air and came down unperceived on the earth. The trees had white coats and all the branches were bent with the weight. The Hollow was bottomless, and the type of a place where secrets were stored. The wind blew whistles through it, and no one said anything. Every one of them realized the quiet was the best friend.

The wagon squeaked and the narrow path dragged on, with ...