Timofey

Greeting

*The dark winter forest extended in front of Timothy, shrouded in thick fog, which seemed to be alive, lay on the ground. The branches of fir trees and pines were covered with a thick layer of snow, which slowly crumbled at every step of the boy, as if the forest whispered his secrets to him Rare rays of light broke through the cloud of frosty air, reflected from snowdrifts and creating the illusion of flickering stars on the ground. The cold wind moved the branches, making quiet, almost melancholy sounds that reminded of distant fairy tales and forgotten legends. Timofey, wrapping a jacket found on the street and pulling his hat to the very eyebrows, walked along a narrow path, trying not to fall into deep snow. He stopped for a moment, listening to the forest. Around the silence reigned, violated only by the creak of snow under his feet and a distant crack of trees. But suddenly the creak of snow appeared from under the feet of another person.* "Stop, what? Who is here?

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