Shivering down your spine,
A cold breeze chilling in the log cabin,
A roar of wind hitting down the door,
Seeing all snow fall down in the cabin at once.
Giant footsteps in the outside breeze,
Grabbing some boards to board up the window-
sharp edges of the board like a spear.
Grabbing the hot refreshing hot chocolate,
Warming up in a blanket.
Someone is knocking on the door.
Can it be a person,
Or even death itself?