Dense green spruce road deep fluffy snow they were mighty thin-legged deer back behind the heavy horn here a Trace of it here trodden paths here the Christmas tree in the White tooth scraping and a lot of pine crosses autumn crumbled on top of the snow Here again, a measured Trace and rare suddenly jump far meadows lost dog gon and branches studded horns on the run As easily, He left the Valley like mad in excess of fresh forces in the quest Nastia joy and he beauty of the animal from death took