They gave me an axe and sent me to cut down the heart of the forest. My path was dark; wolves snapped at my steps and gave chase as persistent as the winter snows. I took shelter in the measliest of holes and spent hours scavenging enough food to survive.
When I faltered, she found me, gave me succour and safety from harm. But it is the most bitter irony.
She has filled my heart, this heart of the forest, this girl of snow, but I am the Queen’s Man. I am the Woodsman and my axe must be true.