Haunt skittered through new lands like a paper bag. They rolled along wherever the harsh winter breeze carried them. Today they hoped it carried them somewhere warm.
A foot of snow had fallen and they had to do everything they could to travel through it. The Moor had become an angry tundra overnight, Haunt had been an unfortunate victim of it. Covered in a heavy dusting of snow that they had awoken with upon their back. A quick shake had dissolved most of it into the air, yet they collected more that fell in their travels.
Orange eyes fluttered feverishly as they scanned the white, snowy horizon. They thought they spotted something ahead and already they began to cower lowly.